Perception of the Serpentine
by Italia8989
Summary: Slytherins are loved as dark things are: in secret, between the shadow and the soul. The true story of how Draco and Astoria came to be together, from the beginning to the end.
1. Youth is Ignorant

**Disclaimer:** There's a reason if some details are incorrect. Let me know if there's anything I need to fix since I'm not the genius J.K. Rowling is.

 **Chapter 1:** Youth is Ignorant

 **A/N:** The goal of this story is to fill in all the blanks about Slytherins. You'll get to visit with many wonderful people, in and out of the House, from a fresh, female perspective (Astoria Greengrass'). This will chronicle the personal journey of Astoria and her perspective of Slytherin. There will be multiple aspects and themes, so I'm hoping you can find something heartfelt within this mess of surreal stuff.

If you don't like lengthy author notes, skip over them. This reads like a book. :)

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Youth is Ignorant**

My first experience with magic is something I still marvel at. Daphne was home during summer vacation and we were picking roses in the meadow glade behind our house. Of course, I did not heed her warning to beware of the prickly thorns protruding from the green stems. I was too captivated with the pathos of red the flower was enthused with.

Daphne startled me by speaking, which made me squeeze the stem. Thorns dug into my hands, and soon droplets of blood were blooming, a shade almost as rich as the flower. Tears stung my eyes as I grasped my hand and sunk to my knees.

Daphne rushed towards me, struggling to pry my fingers off the stem. "Astoria, let go! Doesn't it hurt you?" Uncertainty and panic flickered within her eyes, and soon I saw the reflection of fire in their aquamarine hues.

The rose sparked and sizzled with flames exhumed from my hand, but still I did not let go. The rose turned black, then finally to ash with dust powder falling upon the ground.

Daphne's eyes were bugging out of her petite head. "Come on, Astoria. Let's go get Mum to heal your hand. We'll tell her about your … charm, too."

I showed her my hand with upturned palm. It was smooth and unsullied from injury. I beamed up at my sister and said, "Isn't magic amazing?"

She giggled in relief, taking my hand as she led me back. "I would know."

"Daphne?" I inquired.

"Yes, Astoria?"

"What were you going to say earlier?"

Daphne twirled ringlets of her ebony hair around her finger, getting that dreamy look I thought I could relate to but in truth, had no inkling about. "Well, Mum told me once that the meadow has special properties. According to Wizard folklore, if you deliver a rose to your true love, they will return your feelings, but only if you truly love them."

"It'd be a lot easier to use a love potion," I noted.

"But a love potion is only temporary and can work on anyone. Those roses are more of a curse because they make you dedicated to your lover forever. Mum said they can only work in 'dire consequences' or 'absolute desperation.'"

I rolled my eyes. "That sounds silly. There are too many rules."

"They're for a reason. Did you see how bright the color was?"

"I s'pose you're right. They make the whole world look grey."

Daphne was back to twirling her hair again. "They say falling in love is like that. You know, the whole world is grey, and then all of a sudden, you can't look directly at anything."

"How come I could burn the flower, if it's so powerful?"

Daphne stopped walking and stared at me melodramatically. "I don't know, Astoria. All I know is that _no_ wizard should be able to do that, let alone a little girl. No offense. I'd be careful when you fall in love someday, because it could be too much."

It was one of the few moments my sister said something that was actually true.

* * *

Today was the day.

Sorry, not _the_ day. It was just "a" day. It was time to traverse to Diagon Alley to receive my wand, books, pet (Mum insisted on an owl because of her separation issues), wardrobe, and any additional trinkets tickling my fancy. Daphne was bubbling with excitement because she could see her friends, which didn't make sense, since she visited with them every week over summer. It had been a year since the rose incident, and based on her suspicious behavior, I wasn't surprised she spent all of her free time in the meadow inhaling the perfuming scent. My parents seemed to rely on me to make up for Daphne's hopelessness. Hogwarts transfigured their naïve, sheltered daughter into a conniving, hormonal sprite. They were determined that I wouldn't turn out the same way, but they could already tell I wasn't so easily molded.

It might appear I detest my sister with equal fervor, but take a moment to get to know her character.

Floo'ing to Diagon Alley wasn't new for me since I had been the two previous years for Daphne's school supplies. However, the hustle-bustle of enthusiastic students, parents, and teachers never failed to fill me with amazement.

"I don't want to take her with me!" Daphne pouted. My mum started to relent in sympathy, but Dad wouldn't back down.

"I don't care what you want. I want _her_ to know someone before she starts, and I expect you to look after her in Hogwarts too. We've talked about this. This transition should be easy for her. Do the right thing for once in your bloody life!"

Daphne crossed her arms. "She embarrasses me!" I glanced down at the shuffling feet and pebbles skittering across the street. I wasn't the most extroverted person, or prettiest little sister, but it was still offensive.

"Take her with you or I'll tell Snape to deduct points for this in front of you and all your little cliquey friends. You know how I'm on such good terms with him."

"You're _blackmailing_ me?!" she gasped in disbelief.

Sooner rather than later, we were in _Flourish and Blotts_ , checking out our books. I was inhaling all of them already, struggling to hold the sheer weight of them upwards. We stood in line, Daphne tapping her foot and constantly staring out the window. The bell ringed to signal someone's entrance and a group of her friends walked inside. Her already erect posture improved in an enforced manner. I recognized Pansy and Theo from visits, Draco from parties, but the two deuces and the lank boy with a smirk eluded me.

Pansy and Daphne squealed as if it had been ages since yesterday, she exchanged a playful smile with Theo, kissed Draco on the cheek, cringed at the two goons, and reserved her best performance for the anonymous boy. Her cheeks' pinkness rivaled the roses' and she kept wringing her hands.

"It's been a while, Blaise."

Pansy erupted into giggles, and Daphne's painful smile reached unproportioned heights. This Blaise guy responded with some requite, but with coolness Daphne couldn't grab at. "Too long, I think, Daph. Say, who's this little version of you? Hey there, do you need help holding these?" My fingers were relieved of perpetual agony when Blaise assisted in holding up my books. (And while we're at it, I'm no "version" of Daphne, except maybe the "little" part. I was plain and had a pleasant smile, but that's all that was going for me.)

"Oh, she's my sister, Astoria." She waved her hand. "I'm just helping her with everything until my parents get back."

"It took a lot of convincing on our parents' part," I quipped. She glared at me, promising pain later.

Blaise laughed, seemingly unbothered. "So, are you excited for Hogwarts?"

A voice cut in. "Blaise, are we getting our books or leaving?" It was Draco. He was rather tall and quite pale, and had a reputation for being rude in the brief period I had known him.

"I want butterbeer," whined Pansy. "Let's get some before we have to stick our heads in tarot cards."

Draco snorted. "That class is trash."

"Daphne, look!" cried Theo, causing several people to crane their heads in our direction. "Your parents are on their way in. You can come with us." He nodded to Blaise and winked.

Daphne's eyes pled with me and I almost intervened, but then she shot me a vengeful look. There was something about it I was afraid to confront.

"All right, let's go. Catch you later, Astoria."

I purchased my books and placed them in a weightless bag the cashier gave me. I swung it about, debating what I should do once I exited the store. I figured I would try to find the wardrobe store since my fitting was booked for a certain time. Sure enough, I walked inside and was told to stand on the stool.

"I heard this woman does things the old fashioned way," said a girl next to me. "That is, without magic."

"How does she still have her job, then?" I replied. We giggled and were cut off when she came back, whistling as she checked off our names. She then strung a tape measure around my waist. My face grew red when she rotated it around my eleven-year-old bust. It might have been necessary for measuring, but it was hard to understand how.

She switched back and forth between the girl and I; we were exerted from having to stifle laughter. She finally said our robes would be delivered by owl in a few days.

When the door swung shut, the girl and I broke out in laughter. Her parents waved her over and she smiled at me in farewell.

"Will I see you on the Express?" Lacey asked.

"Sure, we'll sit together."

"I'll bring money for frogs."

"I'll bring my owl so we can talk about the people sitting next to us without them knowing."

She was soon walking away with her parents.

And there I was, in solitude again. I decided to wait in front of _Ollivander's_ because my parents wanted to be there when I picked out a wand.

Ten minutes later, an older version of Draco approached me. I knew Mr. Malfoy much better than his son, but still acquainted with him less than Narcissa.

"Are you waiting for someone, Miss Greengrass?" He looked down at me as if I was a child he didn't know how to handle.

"I guess so. Daphne was supposed to bring me, but she left me to go get butterbeer with her friends. I'm hoping my parents will see me here soon."

Mr. Malfoy straightened and waved his wand in a silent incantation. "I just notified your father of the situation. Be careful, Miss Greengrass. You do know notorious Sirius Black is now a runaway fugitive?"

I nodded vigorously. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

There was a flickering smile one could easily miss flitting across his face. "Your parents should be along soon. Enjoy your excursion. I remember the wonder of my first wand."

He turned over his robe as he swiveled and cascaded away.

My mum Apparated beside me, appearing worried. "Astoria, come on, we're going inside to get your wand. I have to apologize for your sister since I'm not sure she will be in any condition to do it when your father is through with her."

"Oh, Mum, she'll kill me if—"

"She will do no such thing. Now, don't let her ruin your day. Let's go get your wand. Did you get measured?"

I nodded and we entered _Ollivander's_.

The shop was in chaos between all of his costumers and the spells being cast and wands discarded. My mum sat down in a chair as if expecting this to take a great deal of time.

Mr. Ollivander shuffled over to me and I gave him my name. "Oh, my," he said, taking up a wand underfoot. "It would be quite a disaster to break someone's destiny with a wrong step. I'll be right back with your wand. We'll try something springy, something gentle."

I took up the tainted wand. It was cracked in a few places, but it was nothing that couldn't be fixed. The thing was gnarled and long for my hand; around the size of a ruler. It was as hard as granite and was almost warped or wrung with uneven texture. Mr. Ollivander soon returned, holding miscellaneous selections. They clattered to the floor when he saw me.

The wand was leading my hand, which was leading somewhere I know not of. An image shimmered in the air, an accurate illusion of a rose engulfed in flame. My hand shook, and it dissolved into nothing.

"Pliant, rosewood with driar thorns, 11 and ½ inches," he recited.

"Are you sure that's good for her?" my mum asked, studying my wand.

Mr. Ollivander nodded, unoffended. "They say that the wand tends to reflect the magic performed from the deepest part of one's soul."

I got my share of butterbeer and played with my owl Boomerang for the remainder of my summer. Daphne was silent and morose but didn't dare reprimand me for ratting her out. My dad gave me my first flying lesson with a bequeathed Greengrass broom the day before we left, and I fell on Daphne from the sky.

* * *

Platform 9 and 3/4 was no longer commodious when filled to the brim with a miscellaneous combination of Muggles, Halfbloods, and true wizards.

"Remember to look after your sister, or there will be problems," my father glared at Daphne. He was perhaps the only person who could blackmail her into obedience without causing retaliation. My sister avoided his eyes and gave Mum a one-armed hug. It wasn't that Mum was a pushover—she just had a different way of doling punishment. Father assumed there was no different way of dealing with people than back in the old days of You-Know-Who. He has a permanent stoic expression and a sizeable scar on his chin to prove it. But we never talk about those things. Dad doesn't like to reflect, and Mum was relieved enough when she didn't have to continue living with a Death Eater with a newborn in the house.

I always knew I would have to do this, but it was almost hard to leave. My parents were my steadfast, trustworthy figures, and I was headed out into the unsheltered world. I hugged them before Daphne dragged me away, her hand locked around my wrist, and me hanging onto my inherited bottomless suitcase. My father nodded in approval because he knew long goodbyes make it the hardest to leave.

"Send Boomerang out with a letter tomorrow!" Mum called.

Daphne abruptly let go of me when she collided with Blaise. Her flirting had improved since our visit to Diagon Alley, almost as if she had made it appear she hadn't practiced. This time he failed to notice my presence.

Soon a congregation of Slytherins surrounded us and I was pushed towards the back. I eavesdropped on conversations and watched reunions.

Pansy kept putting her hand on Draco's arm as she snorted with laughter. Tracey Davis had a scowl on her face.

"Crabbe and Goyle might duel tonight. Whoever wins gets _you,_ Tracey!"

"I'd rather take Muggle Studies than let either of those horse-arses snog me," she pronounced. She glanced at Daphne and Blaise and her face melted into sadness.

"Did you miss me?" asked a voice with baritone rivaling Crabbe's. Millicent Bullstrode strode into the area with her arms open wide. No one moved in for a hug.

Millicent, or "Millie" according to Daphne, was a gargantuan and manly he-she. She has an intelligence quota of 19, no common sense, and is annoying when she isn't rude. She forced herself into my sister's circle after bonding with the goons Crabbe and Goyle, but she was always the friend no one wanted to associate with. Daphne always had ridiculous stories when she came home. Millie still couldn't levitate anything or perform a simple _Lumos_ spell without assistance. She then took upon the initiative to try to remove Pansy's zit, causing her to break out even more. No one had contacted her over the summer.

Theo now approached everyone with a grin on his face. It receded when Millie addressed him.

"Theo, remember my dung heap prank?"

"How could I ever forget, Millie? Tell me, how is your uterus?" When Theo made a bad move on a Quidditch game last year, Millie decided to put dung from the Owlery at the bottom of Theo's bed underneath the blankets. He avenged himself by performing a serious spell that gave her an endless cycle. It took her six months to tell anyone because she was so embarrassed and worried about getting into trouble for her prank. Daphne had said there was some serious damage to her uterus, but nothing a healing spell couldn't fix.

Millie blushed and found the ground entertaining.

"Astoria!" I heard a holler. Lacey was pushing her way through the crowd to reach me.

"Daphne?" I wriggled through the mass of Slytherins to poke my sister. "My friend's here so I'll be on the train."

She gave me a flippant glance and continued talking Blaise's ear off. He winked at me in acknowledgment.

I embraced Lacey in a hug and we ran up to the Express. The train's engine was starting to sound in a signal for boarding.

"If we hurry, we can get a whole compartment for ourselves!" Lacey dragged me through the train as if she studied its blueprint. We went into its furthest compartment, bolted the sliding doors, and settled down on the plush couches. We pressed our faces up to the windows when the train whistled and began pulling away, waving furiously to everyone. I swore I caught sight of my parents in a corner of the platform. They weren't waving, though.

They were hollering at each other.

The doors were soon unlocked for a lifetime supply of chocolate and beans. I inhaled my chocolate and Lacey and I were in tears over our flaming red pepper beans. She performed a spell to enhance the radio waves around us so we could listen to our favorite genres of music.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" I asked.

"Some of the first spells my parents taught me were ones that involve music. We're pretty obsessed."

"So am I! My mum said that all esteemed Purebloods should go further to pass down the … you know, Pureness, so I chose piano."

Lacey threw a wrapper out the window. "Are you gonna join chorus?"

I laughed. "Daphne would never speak to me again. I heard they're terrible."

"Ah: the perks and downfalls of having an older sibling. She must save you from embarrassment."

I shrugged. "Only when I'm not embarrassing _her_."

"Well, I still think we should join," goaded Lacey. "If we hate it, we can quit after our first practice and no one will ever know we considered it."

"Sounds like a deal."

We spent the next two hours fantasizing about Hogwarts with the adventures and mischiefs it held. I informed Lacey of whom to stay away from and who she should crush on to up our First Year reputation.

"Why does it take so long to get there when it's a magical place?"

"I think it's because the best part of magic is the suspense before you get to use it," I replied.

Then there was a furious banging on the door.

We sported our wands and I stood back before we flung the doors open. Disappointment flared when we discovered it was a First Year staring at us with a petrified expression.

"I just saw a demon. Please, let me in!"

Lacey crossed her arms, wand dangling down. "We're supposed to believe that?"

He swallowed, brown hair ruffled. He was practically swimming in his robes. "Please, guys, we're wizards, we're all insane enough to believe in demons."

"Well, what did it look like?" I asked him.

"It was … was intangible, with a black hood and large oval eyes and a big mouth that stretched—"

We pulled him inside and slammed the doors. I started pacing back and forth. "Someone should alert the conductor."

"What's going on?" asked the boy, sitting on the edge of the couch.

"You saw a Dementor," explained Lacey. "They live on your happiness because they make none of their own. The Dementor's Kiss is when they suck out your soul into their mouths. It will leave you without emotion."

"They eat your prefrontal lobe?" said the boy.

I ignored his cryptic comment. "What's your name?"

"Ethan Travers. And yours?"

Lacey smoothed her robes. "I'm surprised it wasn't clear. I'm Lacey Blackwell, and this is Astoria Greengrass. You've just gotten yourself acquainted with this year's Slytherins."

Ethan shrunk further into his robes.

"You've just been with Gryffindors, haven't you?" I guessed.

"Um, I'm not sure if that's what they called themselves, but…."

Lacey stuck her nose up in the air. She was prepared to take on the persona she had been awaiting her entire life. "Gryffindors are weak. Who saved you from the Dementor?"

And then the lights went out.

* * *

The castle looming above me was not a source of comfort to someone who had just witnessed a Dementor overtake a train and was about to be Sorted. The carriage jostling me around also did not help my nerves or multiplying trepidation.

We finally poured into the Great Hall and were bombarded with the smells of autumn. The glass globe above was decorated with the night sky. I studied my constellations over the summer so that I could find an error in the enchantment. There never was one.

The horde of First Years settled in the center of the hall, and you could hear a pin drop amongst us. The other students sat at their tables, grumbling about having to sit through the Sorting when we arrived late while delectable food should be arriving. At the Slytherin table, Blaise and Theo threw a few jinxes at each other but ended up catching Draco in the middle. Daphne was engaged in a conversation with Tracey and Pansy while Millie was chatting it up with the goons. There were a lot of older Slytherins as well, but they seemed mellow and faded into the background of the Third Year liveliness.

The Professors were stationed, a few notable ones missing, but the Sorting Hat launched into its speech.

 _Truth is told amidst your fears_

 _A person you are garnered._

 _Opposites are cut with shears_

 _When cone and brim are partnered._

 _Unnerved and steadfast,_

 _Gryffindor in a lion's den._

 _Fortitude that's unabashed,_

 _Desired badger of all men._

 _Unaffected through logic,_

 _Revealed with an eagle's eye._

 _Cunningness may wreck it,_

 _As will a snake connive._

 _Segregation is a bore_

 _I'll abate within these groups._

 _For even in naïve, Muggle lore_

 _Separation in plenty is moot._

There was an outpour of discontent from the Muggle comparison, but McGonagall shushed everyone as she started calling out names. I watched my future housemates and house enemies stroll, or skulk, or shiver upwards to sit on a chair and talk to their heads. My stomach dropped whenever a name was called or a student was admitted to a house. Within the half hour I would be Sorted. I felt as terrified as a Hufflepuff. Was I really a Slytherin or just conditioned to be one?

"Blackwell, Lacey."

She practically ran up to the chair. Lacey's smile was wide as the hat was placed on her head. To anyone else, she was at ease and confident about her personal introspection, but I could see her knees knocking together.

"SLYTHERIN!" it bellowed.

Slytherin welcomed her with open arms. Lacey was its first occupant and was admitted to sit across the Prefect. She waved to me and gave me a thumbs-up.

I couldn't keep track of all the names and Sortings. I was immersed in my nervous thoughts and fears. If I wasn't in Slytherin, I'd have no friends, Daphne would hate me, and I'd have a hopeless future—

"Greengrass, Astoria."

There was a pause before I stepped forward to alert the small crowd to part. I clenched my hands together and stared with bewildered eyes at all the people staring back _at me._ I plopped onto the chair and my mind buzzed even more when the Sorting Hat started talking.

"Stop being uptight, you're not a Hufflepuff. And not a Ravenclaw either, for that matter." I let out a mental and physical sigh of relief. "What, did I surprise you? Well, I wouldn't get totally comfortable yet."

 _Why? What other torture do you have planned for me?_

"You exhibit some Gryffindor traits." I sat up rigidly. "You're quite loyal and adventurous, even if you're afraid of the Quaffle. You have some cunningness in you, but you use it like a Gryffindor."

 _Please don't ruin my life!_

"I'm not ruining your life! Don't you have any self-worth? You'll be a great Gryffindor!"

Tears beaded up in my eyes and my throat burned from the effort of holding back a sob.

"SLYTHERIN!"

McGonagall must have noticed I felt dizzy because she helped me stand before I tottered to my place beside Lacey. Daphne was over in a flash and gave me a backbreaking hug. My head was tilted toward the ceiling and I lost myself in the infinite, flickering darkness.

"I'm proud of you," she whispered in my ear. "But I still would've disowned you if you didn't get in."

I pinched her, and she went back to where she belonged.

Lacey pointed out the other Slytherins that had already been Sorted. It was an apparent struggle for us to talk in hushed voices.

"Flora and Hestia Carrow over there are the creepiest twins I've ever seen. Neither of them had any reaction when they were Sorted," she explained.

"I've met them," I said. "It was at one of the Malfoy parties. There were a lot of Carrows there. Most of them were arrogant."

"And the rests are sadists," Lacey finished loudly. My stomach growled, my hunger alerting me that my nerves were gone.

A boy named Niles Handley was soon Sorted into Slytherin. He had a lopsided smile with wavy blond locks and a dust of freckles. His vibe was sophomoric as he sat down with my sister's group and started conversing with them like _they_ were the privileged ones. Blaise crinkled his nose at Niles when he eyed my sister.

Another boy Slytherin called Lee Harper was Sorted. His build was lank and his skin was almost as dark as the night sky above us. He exchanged a man-shake with Niles and I heard some talk about Quidditch. Why did we have to be stuck with all the jocks?

Gryffindor was chastised by Snape for hooting when a Creevey boy was admitted to their ranks. It was definitely not something to be so excited about. I would never hear the end about the snipes Colin took of Daphne's reported "pulchritudinous, serpentine face."

The Sorting went quickly now. Soon we had a few more: Malchom Ilminster (dark hair with angular cheekbones combined with a sinister stare), Timothy Morcott (a hooked nose with mousy darts for eyes with a puffed stomach and scrawny arms), and Olivia Shardlow (ebony waves for hair and a vintage complexion). Lacey and I sat on the edge of our seats for the announcement of the last boy.

"Travers, Ethan." The kid from the train sauntered up and shook only with giddy excitement. With that kind of droll attitude, he was sure to go in—

"SLYTHERIN!"

There was an eerie silence, so Lacey and I clapped to welcome him and fill it up with finally looked apprehensive—he was quite a backwards person. He was supposed to be happy! He just got Sorted into the most eminent, the best, and the smartest House ever.

Daphne shot me a look. What was her problem?

Theo, Draco, and a few Fifth Years shot up. "He's a Mudblood!" Theo called out. "You can't—"

Our Prefect rose and pushed him back in his seat before the entire house could be reprimanded and sent to bed without supper. But despite his efforts, it was too late.

-50 points from Slytherin.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hopefully you like long chapters! I wanted a good and thorough start. It actually is possible for a Muggleborn to be in Slytherin. And yes, I did write the poem. Astoria's Sorting details will be revealed in a later chapter. :) Please review and next time I'll do some character responses since we'll get to know them.


	2. Slytherin Conditioning

**A/N:** This is my first fanfiction, so I am amazed to see the diversity of people who accessed this. (My story account graphs each view from different countries—so when I saw places like Greece and Australia I was like, WOW!) Thank you to my reviewer; your English is great!

* * *

There were a multitude of times that Ethan met my eyes in quiet desperation. I stuck close to Lacey, praying no one would know I had associated with a Muggle-born. (There was no outright hatred to be harbored against them, but based on how barbaric Muggles are, wizards should be weary.)

"Pureblood!" was shouted by Slytherins with a high intake of glucose in their pumpkin juice as we entered the common room. My heart felt warm, my cheeks rosy, and everything was well when the fire was lit as I plopped into a chair. Lacey and I felt dazed by the palatable supper and the green hue emitted from Black Lake. Cards were being dealt, playful duels ensued, and incessant chattering was heard about transformed housemates from over the summer or acquaintances catching up.

Our humble abode was interrupted by a scuffle at the entrance.

"He's a Mudblood, he can't come in!" Draco squealed. "His House needs to be switched, or better yet, he should be expelled. Until my father can intervene—"

"I've get you cover, Draco," grumbled Goyle.

"Me too," seconded Crabbe.

Theo crossed his arms in agitation, regarding Ethan with a scrutinizing glare. A congregation of Third, Fifth, and Seventh Years guarded the halls to make sure no one passed. How did my sister's friends have supreme authority? Did their names really mean so much?

The Prefect pushed through the gathering crowd to reach the commotion. "Merlin, I leave you alone for five minutes and you're already causing a ruckus. Let the bloody boy through before Dumbo has your hides." Ethan scuttled below the Prefect's raised arm and raced up to his dormitory. A few snickers and sneers were thrown at him. Some people even aimed (but were held back) from hexing him.

"You're a coward, Riley," growled Theo. "You're just afraid of being punished."

"I'm no twat," spit back Flavius Riley, the Prefect. "Grow up a few years and you'll know which battles to fight." There was a pause until Riley returned to his dormitory and then everyone went on as if nothing had happened.

* * *

My eyes were tinged with sleeplessness by the following morning. Lacey and I held out our maps in the hallway, struggling not to collide with anyone while making the correct turns. Our second and third morning classes were filled with Potions. I came across Daphne in the corridor and she fell into stride beside me.

"How was Binn's?"

"The history is fascinating, but he's not so much," I responded. I made Lacey put down her map as we started climbing a moving staircase. Daphne swiped her arm in front of us and it suddenly rotated. My heart jumped to my throat.

"The deaf geezer is about to croak. Wait until you get to Potions. It's one of the few real classes, but it's worth it."

Pansy's voice echoed from across the balcony. "Time for Trelawney! Get over here now, Daph, or I prophesize that you'll get a detention of serving tea for being late!"

Lacey gestured to a room at the end of the hallway. "He's waiting for us."

Snape's penetrating gaze hovered over me as we traipsed inside and found ourselves seats. I would sometimes find him at the doorway of my house, him greeting my father, before they took their business to his private office. It is presumable they were once good friends: both Slytherins, each in the same year.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins in the room filed into their respective places. Lacey was on one side of me; Niles, Harper, and Malcolm across from my looming cauldron. Olivia, the twins, and Tim were dispersed throughout. The bell rang and Snape began talking in his monotonous, rhythmic voice.

"In case you haven't glanced at your schedules, you are in a class called Potions. You'll be responsible for parchment assignments daily as well as essays when we finish a particularly grueling session. Any inhospitable behavior between Houses—"

"Sorry," a huffed voiced interrupted. "I got lost." I groaned inwardly when Ethan took the only seat available (a.k.a. the other side of me).

"Oh look, it's the disgrace to the Slytherin House," murmured Niles. Snape must have heard him but he ignored the comment.

"Next time, points will be deducted for tardiness." He hovered the on the last word. "As I was saying, any inhospitable behavior between Houses will not go unpunished. Now open your books to page thirteen and read to page twenty-seven. I suggest you peruse it well before brewing the potion or you will be confused and singe something … valuable off yourself."

Then he left the room.

Niles and Harper started whispering quite loudly for whispering. I opened my book, hoping to prevent any conversation aimed towards me from Ethan or trouble drifting over the horizon involving him.

Niles stood up. "I dare you to brew the potion, Mudblood. Prove yourself to Snapey."

Ethan rubbed his nose, quite calm despite Niles's aggressive stance as he leaned towards him. "I'd rather read up on it first. Wouldn't want to singe anything valuable off."

Harper shoved the ingredients on the table to him. "Do it, Mudblood. Do it or I'll hex you back to the gutters of London."

Ethan gulped and nodded. Lacey and I were enraptured with widening eyes as he flipped to page 27 and poured the correct measurement of powder, herbs, and liquids into vials before stirring them into his warming cauldron. The potion was titled "Copper Fire." Soon enough, green flames sprouted out of the cauldron.

Harper tilted his head, granting an impressed look to Niles. Niles hit him upside the head. Ethan narrowed his eyes at the cowering Gryffindors. I expected more out of them. You'd think at the mention of "Mudblood" they would all be after us with mob torches and hellfire.

"Never call me that again," glowered Ethan. The innocent First Year terrified of Dementors was replaced with a Slytherin out for blood. "I'll demonstrate what I'll do to you if you so much as _think_ the word _Mudblood_."

He whipped out his wand and pointed it at the trembling Gryffindors. Some scattered underneath the table, but a few brave ones stood up. They didn't even think to defend themselves with their amateur skills. _"Blattam."_

A couple unfortunate Gryffindors shrunk into sizeable cockroaches. They scattered around the table and a few people started screaming or hyperventilating. The twins (Flora and Hestia) captured them in a jar and proffered them to Ethan. He unscrewed the lid, situating the jar over a device hovering above the copper fire. He then poured water so that the Gryffindor cockroaches were floundering in its slow boil.

"Someone should get Professor Snape," I said.

"Someone should shut her up," Niles snapped. He, Harper, and their recruited Malcolm fixed their wands on me.

"He won't hurt them," Lacey whispered as the cockroaches struggled not to capsize in the gurgling water.

"How do you know that?"

"I just do."

I wasn't so sure.

"You've made your point, Travers," Malcolm said, reaching to remove the jar. Ethan fought to do it himself and poured the cockroaches back onto the table.

Snape's billowed robes entered the room. His face held a tight smile before he regarded Ethan.

* * *

"I'm not expelled!" Ethan shouted to our table at supper. A loud cheer and the clanking of glasses were heard. I put down my fork. Everyone knew of Ethan's first Potions excursion by now and our House was buzzing with the approving news of a Muggle-born torturing Gryffindors in response to the people who had taunted him.

Niles clapped Ethan on the back and seemed to ask him something. Ethan instead pointed in our direction. Niles nodded curtly and sat back down.

Ethan was soon standing adjacent to the seat across from me and Lacey. "Mind if I sit?"

"Sure!" Lacey smiled, basking in the attention. I stared at my untouched food.

"I love the pudding here," Ethan noted in between helpings.

Lacey nodded even though there was no pudding on her plate. "So, what did Dumbo say when Snape brought you to his office?"

"He looked concerned, but then saw my face and kind of wrote the whole thing off. He said I'd get a few detentions with Snape and never to do anything like that again. I think he was impressed. Some Fourth Years can't even do that kind of Transfiguration spell."

"Then how are you a Slytherin?" I asked. "If you're so smart, you should be with them." I gestured to the Ravenclaw table of students pouring over parchments or reviewing spells.

"I almost murdered three Gryffindors. I went to an extreme to get my House to like me."

"I didn't think you were gonna let them boil to death," Lacey argued.

"I still held them over the cauldron."

They left Ethan alone after that. His blood status faded into the shameful background of the political aspect of Slytherin. Perhaps they thought he was worthy, or they were scared of his potential if crossed. As shameful as it was for our House, Slytherins are known for our egos and will do anything to defend them. He must have been a prodigy to be there. If not, it was a vulnerability of weakness on us. We preferred to ignore and live in denial of those things. It was how we thrived.

* * *

"Hurry or we'll be late!" I called to Lacey, preparing to leave without her. It was time for our first choir class. There were supposed to be auditions, but everyone got in.

"Frog Choir here we come!" cried Lacey as we ran down the hallway without inhibitions. I twirled around and laughed, having a moment of pure bliss. A patrolling Prefect shook his head at us but didn't make a move to stop us.

We were breathing hard by the time we made it to the Great Hall. We were astonished to see Professor Flitwick counting off students and ticking names on a clipboard.

"Blackwell, Greengrass, how wonderful of you to join our ranks. Why don't you sing a tune for placing? It will only take a moment." Flitwick scuttled to a grand piano that I'd never seen around the Hall before and started plunking out some warmup notes. I couldn't see his head over it.

"On 'ma,'" he said in his head voice. Lacey and I stepped forward, our insides convulsing a bit when our voices erupted into the Great Hall. The acoustics were good, but my voice was undeveloped, wispy, and trembling. Despite this, I sang out, loud and clear, Lacey's tunes gaining confidence besides mine.

"Blackwell, alto. Greengrass, soprano," Flitwick ordered.

"I guess this is where we part," Lacey said.

I flipped my hair. "Gryffindor and Slytherin, alto and soprano."

I was soon enthralled with the barrage of music thrown my way. Most everyone didn't know how to sight-read the notes, but I did well considering my previous knowledge from piano. We started a few Muggle musical scores, Gregorian Wizard Chants, and some classical music my Pureblood family would approve of. After an hour, everyone filed their music into school folders and parted ways. I waved Lacey on with some of her fellow altos and walked up to Flitwick, who was jotting down some notes on his music near the piano.

"Professor, I have a question."

He looked up and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Of course, Astoria. Are you having problems with any of the parts?"

"No…. I was just wondering where this piano goes when we're done singing. I play, you see, and haven't been able to practice since I've gotten here."

"My, my, what an unfortunate predicament! I transport the piano to a restricted room. But I suppose now that someone's interested in playing it, I will move it to the—the. Well, I suppose you're trustworthy enough." He gave me directions to the Room of Requirement in a hushed tone. "But do not tell anyone. It is only to be used for the sake of musical business. The piano will teach you any song you wish to learn. If you are a serious player, I suggest you do a combination of classical, baroque, impressionistic, and contemporary... I hope you can take this privilege seriously, Miss Greengrass."

"I do, Professor. Thank you."

* * *

Lacey giggled and I positioned my face to the minimal sunlight offered between classes. "Isn't that a bit weird, going in a private room for piano lessons?"

"Say what you will, but it's brilliant, Lace. I heard Frog Choir is going to meet there soon, so you'll be able to see it too!"

"Speaking of, will you help me convince Ethan to join Frog Choir? He says he can't sing, but you've heard Loony-out-of-tune-y."

I sighed. "If he doesn't want to, then..."

"I think _you_ don't want him to. Honestly, Astoria, you can't keep judging him for that one Potions class. He's been fine to everyone since. What's your deal?"

I sat up in an upright position and turned haughty. "I'm sorry Lacey, but that kind of behavior scares me. It isn't natural. Besides, it might be some weird Muggle fetish."

"We're Slytherins. That kind of behavior _is_ natural. It's not a fetish, it's a lifestyle."

* * *

 _Overall, Boggarts are beneficial because they help a person work past irrational_ …. I paused a moment to think of a big First Year word when a familiar voice echoed across the table.

"Common room not quiet enough for you?" Ethan settled across from me, crunching into an apple. Madame Pomfrey glared over from shelving books.

"And apparently not the library either," I retorted, gathering up my books. My parchment wrinkled and my quills clattered onto the floor. Ethan bended to pick them up and straightened everything out.

"Astoria, can you sit down a moment?"

I reluctantly did as was requested. I didn't want him to turn me into an insect.

"I heard that you're scared of me."

"…Did Lacey tell you?"

"No."

"Who did, then?"

"I … overheard."

"When?"

Ethan sighed. "Lacey told me. She's a traitor, I know. But I think she wanted me to talk to you about it."

"I'm sorry I said that, Ethan." _Please don't turn me into an insect._

He chuckled. "I'm sorry I scare you! But I'm not sorry I did that. You do realize why?"

"You wanted to gain House approval and…."

"I wanted to get rid of prejudice. It was the only way. You can't do good with evil people. I'm surprised it even worked, but I was desperate. Their hate was stronger for a Gryffindor than a Mudblood wimp in their own House."

"I think I get it." I didn't get it.

Ethan could tell. "Remember when I came and told everyone I hadn't gotten expelled? Niles wanted a bromance, but I rejected him and came over to sit with you. You and Lacey welcomed me on the train. You saved me from the Dementor when they would've just slammed the door in my face without even knowing my blood status! I don't know how you would've treated me if I never proved myself, but that's not the point. It's easy to tell that you're real friends. I don't care about the stuff Niles and his cronies do. I'd never hurt someone unless I had no choice, unless they wanted to hurt _me_."

"I'm sorry they treated you that way. They didn't even know you and they called you a terrible thing." I recalled my father making gibes at "Mudbloods" whenever there was a situation at the Ministry.

"It bothered me because they used it to hurt me. And it did hurt. That was the first time I'd heard the word. It was the first time I'd been called anything mean." He smiled up at me shyly.

"I swear to you, Ethan Travers, that if anyone calls you that name again, I will personally _Blattam_ them myself."

We shook hands. His was soft and fit onto mine like a glove.

It was a fairly smooth and uneventful year. My grades were stupendous in the end between Ethan helping me in Potions and Lacey taking every opportunity to duel me. Frog Choir thrived and my piano-hand coordination improved. I didn't see Ethan over the summer, but we all exchanged letters. I told my parents about him. Upon hearing one of my best friends was Muggle-born, Father gave me a stern look and my mum started pulling out defenses as if a fight might start between us. But when I told them what he did, Father laughed and the wine in his glass almost swished over.

Daphne and I grew closer that summer. She didn't see her friends as much as usual because we were both treading on ice.

We could hear our parents yelling through the Silencing spell.

* * *

 **A/N:** And there's the end of First Year. How do you feel about Ethan?


	3. The Sheer Sky

**A/N: Please post a character question in your review!** I'll answer the question from what the character would say-it can be anyone, just no spoilers! From here on out, there will be a lot of themes in here that have to do with real life situations because they are important, but I will be sure to warn you if the rating goes up. For letters: Ethan is italicized, Astoria is bold, and Lacey is both.

* * *

Daphne and I were back in the garden again, but not for fun.

We were getting painted.

Mum had Mr. Kaiser come each consecutive year to paint us amidst the flowers in differing seasons. Mr. Kaiser painted the Muggle way, but he managed to bring visionary with slight fabrication to the picture to give it a fictional quality not achieved in normal paintings. He captured the essence of movement and his special canvas retained it. The painting begins in summer, when we were toddlers wobbling around on cushioned baby feet, to little girls in autumn with stockings and hair ribbons, and then to just plain _girls_ cupping crimson flowers in snow-white mitten hands, and now back to summer as grumbling adolescents.

The roses are always crumpled together, unchanging, life that's dead in movement.

Daphne smiled with false timidity up in the direction of Mr. Kaiser and caressed the rose in her hand. I remained in the back, struggling to fade into oblivion.

* * *

 _Astoria (you need a nickname, I can't keep saying four syllables),_

 _My Muggle friend, Chris and I bought some Japanese (Japan is an island on the Pacific Coast) fighting fish together at the pet store. Today we put them in separate tanks and pressed them up together. They keep snarling and charging each other against the glass. It's fun when you don't have a pool and only upstairs is air conditioned. Or no magic._

 _I can't_ stand _not doing magic. Mum had to hide my wand because she was afraid I was gonna crack. This summer is boring without Lacey giving me homework to copy and you to yell at me about it like my own personal Jesus. Speaking of, what religion are you Purebloods? Us Muggles take on a lot—some of us believe in things even more insane than magic._

 _Your Mudblood amigo,_

 _Ethan_

 **Dear Ethan,**

 **First of all, I'm not a dimwit. I know where Japan is. When can I meet Chris?**

 **Your mum sounds like an intelligent person. I'm sure that if I told her about the homework plagiarizing she would agree with me. Hm, should I tell her? Boomerang is intelligent enough to deliver an owl to anyone in your family.**

 **Religion is a touchy subject for most Purebloods. Thousands (perhaps more) were slaughtered during the Inquisition at the hands of Catholics, so some are not fond of that belief, yet Christianity still holds popularity over others. However, we all believe in magic (which you can't always see), so a lot of Purebloods practice religions similar to Judaism in this sector of the world. My dad wasn't raised on anything and my mum was Orthodox before she was married, but neither of them practices anything anymore. What does your family believe in?**

 **Don't use that word. My dad would get pissed if he saw something like that when he just got used to our friendship.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Astoria**

 ** _Astoria,_**

 ** _Did you know our school has an alma mater? Well, we do, and it just so happens to be the Frog Choir's first gig this year! Thank Merlin my parents are on the board. What would we do without all this information? I doubt Ethan even knows about the Triwizard Tournaments. He's so out of the loop._**

 ** _I'm excited for you to come over soon!_**

 ** _-Lace_**

 _Astoria,_

 _Three days later and I still crack up whenever I think about this:_

 _I finally found my wand and I told Chris I was going to the bathroom as he was feeding the fish. I waited a few minutes and re-emerged into his room with_ this _baby. Imagine it; you know the one. I pointed it at him and murmured some gibberish that happened to be an actual spell. The glass tanks shattered and the fighting fish exploded out of their happy homes. Chris was in hysterics since they kept bouncing off the walls and biting him whenever he tried to touch them._

 _"_ _Get the fuck out!" he screamed at me. "You're not normal. You just killed my fish! Get out of my house!"_

 _I've never been so happy to lose a friend. It felt that good to use magic._

 _When I got home, Hogwarts sent me a letter that I'd been expelled. Of course, my parents freaked, but when I explained to them I had no idea I'd uttered a real spell, they wrote back and everything's clarified. I'm just grounded. Mum's furious—but Mum's grounding is just not being allowed her cooking. Believe me, it's punishment enough. So don't tell her about my copying or_ she _might send me to Muggle reform school._

 _That's a long-lasting vendetta. The next Jewish generation has forgiven the Germans for the Holocaust already, but I'm not sure you even know what that is. My family is die-hard Catholic. (There goes a bad pun.) My grandparents exchanged the landscape of Italy for the London sewers of the Industrial Revolution._

 _Lacey mentioned something about the Triwizard Tournaments. What are they?_

 _Your_ _Muggle amigo,_

 _Ethan_

 **Dear Lacey,**

 **I'm already doing practice drills for the song. Next week I'll move to twice speed while doing jumping jacks. That's how bored I am. Ethan has already asked me about the Tournaments and I'm really excited to play dumb with him.**

 **I'll bring my dormant wand to your house so we can mourn together!**

 **Love,**

 **Astoria**

 **P.S. I don't sign "Love" to Ethan (that would just be weird), so don't show him this if you happen to see him. He might squirm with envy.**

 **Dear Ethan,**

 **The only thing I can say to that story is boy, does Muggle life seem interesting. (By the way, don't swear in your letters because I'm afraid my mother reads over my shoulder.)**

 **I know what the Holocaust is because a lot of Purebloods were persecuted in that also. You can't say who's forgiven who; you don't know what lies in people's hearts. It's also a different situation since religion is regarded as something separate from magic.**

 **So, you're Italian? That explains everything but your blue eyes.**

 **The Triwizard Tournaments are life-threatening tasks the upperclassmen can qualify for. Different schools come to Hogwarts so we can bond or set aside differences. Something tacky like that. You might get a reward if you win—a round of applause or something equally worthless.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Astoria**

 _That's why there's so much animosity. Religion and magic aren't so different after all._

 _My father's parents were from the north. That explains it._

 _Remind me to hex Lacey for baiting me._

As usual, the summer was over too soon-or perhaps not to soon.

* * *

The choir was rushed into the Great Hall ahead of the other students, who happened to be watching the entrance of Durmstrang students over Black Lake. We scuttled into our previous positions from last year despite the fact that some of us had growth spurts over the summer. Professor Flitwick passed out sheet music, his plump fingers trembling.

"You were expected to peruse this over the summer. Do any of you know this?"

Lacey and I were the only ones who raised our hands. We had spent several humdrum days dancing around each other's' rooms, doing jumping jacks while singing the alma mater at the top of our lungs.

Flitwick did not acknowledge our hands and instead drilled the simple verses into our heads. Soon enough, the song was broken into several harmonies besides the men's part (there was a general men's part since there were only five boys in Frog Choir). We abruptly stopped singing when the Hogwarts students filed inside the Hall. There was great chatter and gibing among them with excitement being flung about the Triwizard Tournaments. I spotted Ethan floundering about the conglomeration of Slytherins.

"Lacey," I called over to the alto section.

"Yes?"

"Ethan's lost without us."

Lacey considered something for a moment. "Good for that loyal bloke."

I smiled, reveling in Ethan's momentary misery.

The room became dead silent when the Durmstrang students tromped inside. They trudged dirt behind them, and the sharp scent of shaving cream and testosterone mingled beside the aroma of nervous excitement. A lot of the older girls around me were drooling visibly, but I could not identify with the facial hair and arrogant vibe about the young men.

Somehow, things became even worse.

An infinite number of blond girls waltzed in, gathering the attention of every straight male specimen in the room. They were ridiculous with their curled locks and flouncy skirts. You would think the boys had never seen another female with the exception of their mothers ever in their lives.

Dumbledore was thankfully immune to the uncomfortable magic in the air. He made his regular commencement speech and told us that he expected us to treat our new additions with the respect we referred to our fellow Houses with. It was a sorry comparison, but his point was made. Dumbledore waved his wand at Flitwick to cue the Frog Choir to start the alma mater.

There was a dramatic pause as all eyes settled on us and Flitwick waved his conductor's wand. The nod he gave us was more powerful than any spell I had thus learned.

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please.

Whether we be old and bald,

Or young with scabby knees.

Our heads could do with filling,

With some interesting stuff.

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff.

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot.

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.

It was quite a terrible song, but I sang loud and clear in my moment of anonymous stardom. Everyone starts somewhere.

There was a sizable applause from the select underdogs of the school, but the Frog Choir was grateful for anything, so we smiled at one another before taking our seats. Ethan clapped me on the back and I murmured my thanks before turning my attention to the First Years.

"Isn't it wonderful to not be the young ones anymore?" I whispered to Lacey.

She nodded. "Now we can make fun of them and pretend that was never us."

I opened my mouth to respond but there was a firm poking inside my mind. I had a sharp intake of breath and dizziness catapulted me into a foggy dimension. There was the sensation of a rug being pulled out from under me and I was jarred back into reality. Steadying my mentality, I glanced up in the direction the pull was coming from.

Professor Snape stared back at me, ordering me to be silent.

At the time, I had no idea was Legimency was. I had no inkling of its existence in the first place. But I knew Snape had invaded my mind, for a stupid reason nonetheless, and I wondered why someone would do such a thing as to invade someone's privacy.

* * *

While everyone else was buzzing about the unfairness of Harry Potter making the Triwizard Tournaments, Lacey and I were distraught that as Second Years, we were not allowed to attend the Yule Ball. It was a beauteous affair that took place once a century, and we were not about to be discriminated.

"Would you two get a grip?" Olivia Shardlow snapped at us. She was the only other girl in our year we could associate with without barraging our already flimsy reputations. However, she would only be amicable with the boys and would just never be in the dormitory. There were already rumors about her future superlative. She was a gorgeous girl, one of the few in our class without a pallid complexion, and her ebony hair fell in ringlets down her back. She attributed her ethnic appearance to her half Brazilian-Italian heritage.

"I'm attending the dance, with a Fourth Year no less. You'll have no problem going."

"So you have to get a Fourth Year to ask you to be allowed to go?" Lacey asked, leaning diagonally across the table. Olivia swirled her soup around, bored as she waited for her friends. I snorted, knowing it would be impossible for anyone to ask me, let alone a Fourth Year.

"I wouldn't tell you that there wouldn't be a problem if it was that hard." I'm not sure if this is an insult. "You just have to write your parents telling them how _unfair_ and how _upset_ you are that you aren't allowed to go. If you're Purebloods, it shouldn't be too hard for your mummies to convince them to make an exception." She rolled her eyes, giving us a full view of voluminous lashes. I had to ask her about her makeup spell sometime soon.

"Well, of course our parents are Purebloods," Lacey beamed. She looked at me as if she expected me to participate in social interaction.

Olivia's face filled with relief when Niles, Harper, Malcolm, and Ethan consecutively sauntered into the Great Hall. An alarm went off above my head as I saw the future of our House and it made me cringe.

"Glad to see you're trying out, the team needs some balls," Niles said, patting Ethan on the back (almost causing him to stumble). Harper, Niles's other minion, gave a curt nod. Harper does not talk much, but his opinion was obvious because he always silently agreed with Niles. Harper is a beast at Quidditch, though, and Niles revered him because he made the team in First Year. Malcolm just crossed his arms and looked miserable as usual. He might actually have been attractive if he showed optimistic emotions every so often.

I did not mention Quidditch until we returned to the Common Room to begin our homework. Of course, I did not procrastinate like Lacey and Ethan, so I devoted my full attention to pacing in front of the reflection of Black Lake.

"So, Ethan, you're trying out for the Quidditch team?"

Ethan nodded distractedly as he scribbled some chicken scratch onto his parchment. "It's so cool, it's even better than _Playstation_. I mean, it's _flying on a broom._ Real life stuff."

"So? It's a sport."

"Astoria!" Lacey interjected. " _I_ was thinking of trying out. What do you have against sports?"

"I … I've just never had a good experience with them." They wouldn't understand. It was beyond being uninterested. There were countless injuries I had suffered by trying to fit in by flying around on a stupid broom.

"I think it's more than that," said Ethan. "I could understand you hating basketball or football or something mainstream. But Quidditch? Who hates Quidditch?"

"I'm entitled to my opinion!"

"I think you just don't want me to be involved with the crowd that goes along with all that. You're afraid I might become like them and ditch you."

I gaped, partly feigning surprise. Ethan cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head in victory. His expression made me stutter.

"Da-do whatever you want. I-I've still got Lace."

Lacey and Ethan switched homework assignments, promising each other to paraphrase. "Tell yourself whatever makes you feel better," she told me. Anger flared in my cheeks.

"Shut up!" I turned to Ethan. "I won't stop you. I want you to do what you want. Sorry."

Ethan beamed. "Thanks, Stor. Glad to know I've got your unwavering support."

"It doesn't mean you can use that nickname."

"We'll see."

* * *

A few days later, Lacey and I were arguing on the way to Hagrid's hut. We wouldn't be seen going over there in a hundred years (literally), but we needed Galleons to buy attire for the Yule Ball. My mum was sympathetic enough to write a letter so I could attend, but they wouldn't send money to both of their daughters when one was just lucky enough to attend. My parents were not cheap, but they were sensible. It sucked. So there we were, getting money by doing some weird work for the half-giant. Recommendation courtesy of Professor Snape.

"No, I'm not going to! We did nose-goes and you lost!"

"Oh come on, it's not that big of a deal."

"Then you wouldn't have a problem doing it!"

Lacey jumped over a root of the Whomping Willow that extended 50 feet past its base. "Then you can just forget the Yule Ball because I am _not_ talking to him."

We walked on the stone steps up to the Hut. I raised my fist to the door, but it swung open to reveal three Fourth Years with robes even larger than our own. They laughed at something, did not even spare a glance at us, and waved good-bye to Hagrid after thanking him for the tea. Then I saw the lightning bolt. The last conversation about The Boy Who Lived involved my father saying, "Flip the lucky bastard off for me if you see him, Astoria, since I won't be there to do it myself. All that fame gone to waste on the likes of him." Mum was more displeased by the debasement than Harry Potter's comeback.

I put this out of my mind when Hagrid stared down at us. He had a kind face, albeit the rumors in First Year that his beard would engulf students who went through a doorframe the same time he did.

"Uh, we were told to come here … for, um, work," I said. "Do you have anything we could … do?"

Hagrid clapped his gargantuan hands together, making my eardrums pang in pain. "Sure, I'll set you up with somethin'." He went into his hut to retrieve a piece of paper, and I pushed Lacey in first for retribution.

"What year ar' ya's in?"

"Second," we chimed in unison.

"Names?"

"Astoria Greengrass and—"

"Lacey Blackwell. Geez, I'm capable."

"Are you?"

Hagrid was not annoyed by our display of dysfunctional affection. "What House ar' ya's in, ladies? Gryffindor, Hufflepuff…."

"Slytherin," I said. I suddenly felt the necessity to cross my arms.

Hagrid could not hide his stupefaction. "What ar' ya needin' Galleons fer, anyway?"

"We're going to the Yule Ball," Lacey put in.

"Ar' ya's even old enough to?"

"We have permission." She smiled, but we all have different ways of expressing discontent.

He nodded, unrevealing of his thoughts. "All righty, ya's can come at seven Tuesdy af'er classes to the Ferbidden Ferest. Is't good?"

We nodded and thanked him for consideration. As soon as the door slammed shut, we were griping about Slytherin stereotypes.

* * *

"The Forbidden _Forest_?!" Ethan's rise in voice reminded me of how pathetically young we were. "I've got to come!"

I crossed my legs and scanned the common room. We were lucky to get a whole couch to ourselves (usually a couple dibbed it or the upperclassmen approached us and we scattered). I felt like I could see the entire Kingdom of Slytherins from here. Black Lake casted an eerie glow into the room, like a dark-line prism. Even though my sister's group of friends were young compared to the grand scheme of things, they were the largest combination of people and seemed to dominate everything. They each had their roles, and I wondered if it was worth being popular to be hated and having a fascist state of friendship with others.

"No," said Lacey. "You don't have a reason to."

"Besides," I added, "we don't need your sexism involved."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "You think everything's about you! I just want to see the cool forest. Maybe scare you guys a little." His lips turned up into a smirk.

"Chivalry's dead if you don't help, but it's sexist if you do," interrupted Niles on his "walk" by, twisting his face into a sneer. Olivia hung onto his arm. Did she turn the Fourth Year down for Niles?

Malcolm shook his head. "That's why I don't like girls."

"I can think of other reasons why you don't," Lacey snapped.

"All of you, shut up!" Tim Morcott said. He was one of the people in your class who you forget exist until they say something. Then when they stop talking, you forget again. "I'm trying to study."

Niles leaned into his face, but definitely not in a flirty way. "Do you have a problem with _them_ talking?" He was referring to everyone else in the room. "Why don't you tell them too, so we can all let you study?"

Tim gulped. "I'm good."

"You hear that, everyone?" Niles shouted. Soon all eyes were on the Second Year who bothered to speak up. Soon the room was filled with silence with the exception of the song "Boulevard of Broken Dreams." Niles was intoxicated by the synonymous attention.

"Tim thinks—"

"Why don't you shove your head up your arse, Handley?" Blaise interrupted. Daphne looked impressed at his outspokenness. "You think you're all that, but you're like, twelve."

"I'm—"

"Twelve and a _half_ ," finished Draco. Blaise and he clicked their wands in a brief swordfight.

"Oh, and you're both so mature," Tracey Davis noted.

"All of you to bed," the Prefect commandeered.

"Who are you to-?" started Draco.

"I can _drink_ ," he replied.

We all went up.

* * *

"Take care that ya step away af'er ya feed 'im the blood," Hagrid told us. "He can get purty … excited."

Lacey started laughing hysterically after he lumbered away.

"See," Ethan said, "aren't you glad I came? I'm sure the Skrewt wants the Mudblood for an appetizer. You might be able to get away before—"

"I can't believe this!" I stomped my feet. "There aren't enough Galleons in the world…."

"Let's just get this over with. Here, Blasty, come get some type O."

Lacey quivered behind me and I watched with a queasy stomach as Ethan swished around the blood and opened the container. The Skrewt became visible amidst the underbrush. It was like a lobster on steroids, even if that isn't politically correct.

"Aw look, the poor guy has no friends to cannibalize on." Ethan drizzled some blood ahead of us. It settled onto the ground in thick droplets which the Skrewt gobbled on. It made a hissing noise and gurgled on its meal until it finished the insufficient blood. It didn't have eyes, but I could tell when it looked up at us.

Ethan turned his head towards me and shoved the container in my direction. I stepped away, shrieking. It plopped onto the ground into a heaping mess of drizzling crimson. The Skrewt scuttled over to it and we backed ourselves into a tree extending the width of all of us. We still hovered together, trembling a bit. The Skrewt seemed apathetic to the scavenger meal, and clicked its claws together as it regarded us. I whimpered, but it tilted its head at me when I tried reaching for my wand.

"Why the bloody hell do girls care so much about a stupid dance?"

"I want to be pretty!" screeched Lacey. "I want to live a storybook romance. That's why!"

"Stop, Lacey! You'll only egg them on!" I yelled back from the other side of Ethan.

Ethan plugged his ears. "I really need some guy friends."

"Well then, go make one!" And with that, I pushed him towards the Skrewt.

Lacey looked at me in terror as the Skrewt reared up and its blasted, gleaming stinger revealed itself. It shook its tail and its mouth pulled back with fangs as long as my forearm.

" _Protego!_ " A bright light flickered from Ethan's wand and a bubble surrounded us from the Skrewt. He breathed in heavy relief.

Hagrid soon stumbled toward us with a feathery creature attached by a rope, and he kicked the Skrewt and told it to scat. It clambered away as if the mere size difference was reason enough. Ethan let the spell go and stared at Hagrid with innocent eyes.

"That, that _thing_ —"

"It's all righ'," said Hagrid, hugging him awkwardly, being twice his height. "I shoulda told ya ta bring dragon hide gloves."

"Oh, so you tell us now?" I said. I almost felt bad when Hagrid gave us a look of remorse.

Ethan's face lit up from behind him. "I'll have to tell my parents you did something so … irresponsible. They work at the _Ministry_."

Hagrid was horrified to say the least. I gave Ethan a questioning stare.

"Please, please don't, I uh, I'll give ya all the Galleons ya want—"

"Let us ride your Hippogriff and we'll keep quiet about it."

Hagrid nodded, untying the benevolent creature. It soon spread its wings and stretched its neck. The Hippogriff blinked orange eyes at us in curiosity.

"Bow to him, he's ver'a proud … that's righ', Ethan, now ya girls."

I rushed to the feathery being and bowed to it. The Hippogriff was the most mythical creature I had ever seen, and I was appalled at how beauty can change the way someone can regard a Skrewt as opposed to something else.

Hagrid grasped Lacey and I in each of his gigantic biceps, while Ethan hung onto his back, before he dropped us onto the Hippogriff. "Buckbeak goes fast, so hang on. I'll give ya three hours' worth of money, agin' I'm so sorry—"

I didn't know how a cloud felt, but that was what Buckbeak's back was like. I grasped his feathers within my fingers and felt Lacey gripping my waist from behind. It rubbed its hooves onto the earth and flapped its wings before rising from the ground.

I had ridden on a broom before, and it was amazing for a while. To fly is the most exhilarating feeling ever. It's how I feel when I lose myself in my music. But with a broom, you control your own course and can never surrender or truly enjoy the sheer sky. The Hippogriff led us like a good piece of music leads me, or destiny—you have no choice, but it's the only route you can ever imagine.

We were quiet for a while until it reached the treetops. Buckbeak cawed in freedom, and soon the entire expanse of the world was before us. Oh Merlin, we were small. The Castle loomed before us, but Buckbeak swirled in the sky above Black Lake. The wind whipped at our faces, and the lights of sea creatures below the waters illuminated the darkness. We arched and dipped and resurfaced—my eyes were peeling with the weighted air. The night was suffocating, but then the clouds parted to reveal a multitude of stars.

I heard Ethan from the Caboose, laughing. I glanced back and saw that his arms were out. I released mine as well, encasing my legs against Buckbeak's ribs. I flapped my arms, cawed like a nightingale, and then the three of us were doing that, we were flying, really flying now, and I was so happy I could cry.

My stomach dipped as Buckbeak sunk to the surface of Black Lake. I leaned down until my fingers rippled the centerfold of the water. The best moments in life are never long enough.

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter was supposed to end somewhere else, but I figured that would make it wayyy too long. **Please post a character question in your review** and I will also post the responses at the end of the next chapter! If we get enough overall reviews, then I will post responses to those as well. Feel free to ask general questions too!


	4. The Great Schism

**A/N: Chapter 4: Please post your favorite song** in your review! If it incorporates well, I might use it in the next chapter.

* * *

Professor Flitwick raised his voice above the chatter of the Frog Choir. "Over the next week, I'd like you all to do research on Muggle music. Good bands exist besides the _Weird Sisters,_ you know."

The Frog Choir is trustworthy enough to meet every Thursday night after supper, provided we do not abuse the privileges of its availability. Neville and I were the only other people allowed to use it for recreational purposes, because we play the piano. (His toad Trevor was also the lead baritone cantor, since he is more capable than all of the boys combined.) We were cramming to prepare pieces for the introduction of the Yule Ball, which all members could attend if they had permission or were old enough. The choir was not particularly good, and we tolerated gibes and criticisms from fellow students. Upon leaving the Room of Requirement (which has brilliant acoustics, in case you were wondering), we had to do so in shifts of people so wandering students would be unsuspecting.

"I've been looking all over for you!" Daphne exclaimed when she saw Lacey and I walking down the seventh-floor corridor. "Ethan said you had rehearsal, but no one seemed to know." She stopped walking and looked me up and down. My sheet music was sticking out of my folder and Lacey's frog was drooling. "If you two want better reputations, you really should quit that chorus."

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Stop being so sassy. I came to give you two … something." Daphne looked around with narrowed eyes. "Why don't we go into the bathroom?"

Lacey held up her frog. "Toad's a dude."

Daphne was visibly repulsed. "Fine, then." She lowered her voice and leaned in. "These bags are filled with Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. I had to speak with a friggin' Blood Traitor to get this. The things I do."

"But what does _that_ stuff do?" I inquired further.

"Sh, lower your voice! Merlin, it will help you get to Hogsmeade Saturday. Be ready for an early start. We've got a lot of dress shopping to do."

Lacey's blue eyes widened. "You mean, we're sneaking out?"

"Well, don't say it out loud! I just figured, you know, all girls deserve to have a nice dress. You're both in an awkward stage, so I'll help you both out. And don't worry, this stuff works. Neither of you will be caught. Besides, no one will even suspect it."

It was against my better judgment, but when brought up to Ethan, he encouraged our going. ("Knowing you two, this is a one-in-a-lifetime chance to be a badass. Drink some butterbeer for me.")

* * *

So on Saturday morning, Lacey and I awakened at the crack of dawn. We dressed quickly and counted an even amount of Galleons to split in the two sacks containing the Peruvian Darkness Powder. Olivia turned over in her bed.

"Are you two _trying_ to interrupt my beauty sleep?"

"Yes," said Lacey, "our sole aim in life is to turn you ugly."

She huffed and pressed her pillow onto her head. The twins, Hestia and Flora Carrow, overheard the commotion and tip-toed over to us, holding their hands out.

"Galleons," they chorused.

Their bedraggled hair, red-rimmed eyes, and wrinkled clothes helped their creepiness cause. "Here," I said begrudgingly, handing them each a coin.

They stood there, still holding their palms open.

"We're leaving," Daphne told us, poking her head through the dormitory door.

We practically ran out.

A miscellaneous group of students gathered in the corridor leading to the gate entrance of Hogsmeade. Third Years with the opportunity to go for the first time shoved last-minute permission slips and proof at the professors, so no one paid attention to infinitesimal Second Years. Lacey and I were pressed between Daphne and her friends, who kept grumbling about being in such close quarters with Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. I used Lacey's shoulders as grips to peer over the crowd to get a better view.

Hagrid stood at the end of the corridor, ushering students through like a bouncer.

"Daphne," I whispered at my sister. She pushed my prodding fingers away.

"Blaise," I pleaded.

He turned to look at me. "What's up, Astoria?"

"We can't get through with the powder because Hagrid's blocking the door."

Blaise nudged Daphne and whispered into her ear. "What?" she gasped. "Astoria, why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried!"

Daphne scowled as Blaise inched through the dense population of students towards Draco. We strained to hear their conversation.

"Malfoy, we need to move Hagrid so the little ones can sneak through. They're using the Weasley powder."

Draco snorted. "Have fun with that."

Lacey gripped my wrist and pulled me toward them. "We'll give you Galleons."

Draco's blond head snapped in her direction, showing faint interest. "Give me twenty."

Lacey took coins from each of our sacks. Would we even have enough when this was through to buy a rag?

"No, Draco," Pansy whined. "I don't want you getting a detention and banned from the dance."

"But this money was for _you_ , Pansy. You know, for the ah, what's the word, that thing that goes on a suit—"

Tracey Davis rolled her eyes. "Are you referring to a _corsage_?"

"Oh, well in that case." Pansy waved her hand in approval.

Theo's wavy hair wobbled on his shaking head. "He knows how to work her."

"Hey, you big oaf!" Even the upperclassmen parted when Draco cut to the front of the line. "Move so I can get through to Hogsmeade. I need to get my _corsage_!"

"I didn't want him to be mean!" I tried telling Daphne, but she put her hand over my mouth.

"Ya can get yer cursage, but ya gotta wait back in line with ev'ryb'dy else."

Blaise was cracking up from the back as we watched the back of Draco's blond head stare up at the giant. "I won't be pushed around by people who think they have advantage over me because of their size." Pansy swooned.

"I won't be pushed 'round by people whose fathers werk at the Min'stry."

"Mr. Malfoy, get to the back of the line this instant or points will be deducted from your House!" ordered Professor McGonagall, who seemed flabbergasted by the rebellious outburst. Hagrid still hadn't moved, but Draco was not courageous enough to disobey McGonagall. He hung his head, now broiling with real abashed fury, and started to regress to us.

"Ah, bloody hell!" Blaise tore through the students, who were now catcalling against each side. Tracey started cackling when Blaise charged through Hagrid's calves like a torpedoed cannon. However, Hagrid closed in on him while he was halfway out, and now Blaise was struggling to get past, his limbs squirming as Hagrid grasped at his robes. He stumbled out of the entrance and a few daring students darted towards the gates.

"Quick!" Daphne helped us throw up the dark powder and then we were rendered invisible. Lacey and I ran past Hagrid and jumped over the gates and kept running until we reached the end of the pathway to Hogsmeade. Lacey pointed out a quiet hot chocolate store that we entered to catch our breaths. I couldn't believe we caused so much commotion.

We sat at a table that didn't face a window, reducing to a heap of laughter. "Blaise. Is. A. Keeper," I said when we could breathe again.

We turned when the entrance bell to the shop ran and Daphne traipsed in with her friends. All the boys were missing.

"You two aren't very subtle," said Daphne. "I could hear you laughing five miles away."

"How … much trouble are they in?" I asked my sister.

"They're banned from Hogsmeade until Draco's father can intervene," Pansy replied. "Now Draco can't give his opinion on my dress. He didn't even give me Galleons for his corsage. _And_ we're down by 50 points for assaulting a teacher." She glared pointedly at Daphne as if Blaise was her problem.

"Where's Theo?" Lacey asked.

Tracey's eyes crinkled. "Theo's his own man. He doesn't consider hanging out with _any_ of us. He's just always around." She waved her hand. "You know the type."

"Come on, let's go to _Gladrag's_." Daphne was really chomping at the bit for her dress. Had Blaise even asked her yet? " _Auctus_ ," she murmured, causing me to balloon outward and vertically. I was stuck in an awkward stage between curvaceous and plump, and soon Lacey was as well. "No one knows you anyway, but now you'll at least look older," she explained. I picked up my foot and huffed with the effort.

We soon were entering the solely socially acceptable clothing shop in Hogsmeade. Lacey and I were more enamored in the socks that would scream if they stunk than the dresses. Daphne, however, was a woman on a mission, and guided us to a few hopeful specimens.

"What are you looking for?" Tracey asked Pansy, making faces at the items on each rack.

"I want something that shows cleavage."

Daphne coughed. "Slut."

"Am not! I just don't have anything at all, so I want something that boosts a little."

"Does Draco's type have—" Tracey started.

"I have no idea, but I don't want to take any chances."

Daphne pressed a piece of fabric to her complexion while Lacey and I tried to figure out how to determine sizes now that we were about thirty pounds overweight. "You know," Daphne said casually, "Rita Skeeter wrote a book about beauty spells for women a few years ago. Maybe you should check it out at the library."

"I'd rather buy inflatable boob tubes than have Madame Pomfrey deduct more points for my 'taste in literature.'"

"Ah, Astoria!" Daphne exclaimed. "Try this on! Lacey, I'll find you one next."

I was so happy my sister and I were finally getting along. I took the dress, noting how it was pretty but still managed to be conservative. Maybe Pansy could learn something from my choices. I frowned in the changing room when I saw how contrasting I was compared to the size of the dress. How was this supposed to fit? When would this spell wear off?

I was determined in the face of difficulty, so I unzipped the dress and put my two feet inside, trying to slide it up. There was a ripping noise as my legs squeezed through, but the dress was still intact. I turned in the multifaceted mirror that showed all sides of the dress. It was hard to tell if it was attractive when it was about to burst, but it looked decent enough. I just wanted this whole thing to be over with.

"Lacey," I called, "can you un-zipper this?" It would only go up halfway, but I still could not pull it down after.

Lacey lumbered into the changing room and fumbled with my zipper. She had plopped a sky blue selection onto the floor that would complement her eyes and dirty blond hair. She grunted. "I—can't get—it. Try pulling it over your head." She stared at me expectantly. "Well, raise your arms."

I did as I was told, and Lacey stood on a seat as she grabbed the dress's fabric. It inched upwards but when it reached my midsection it refused to budge. "I better go get your sister."

She left me there for a moment and it was not hard to start panicking. Here I was, a human marshmallow stuck in a precarious position. I was blinded by the dress and was going to be asphyxiated. I did not dare move or the dress would explode like a powder keg.

Lacey's labored breath filled the room. "Your sister isn't here. They must've left."

"I can't believe her!" I screamed, "I hate her so much! I never should've trusted her!"

"Calm down, Astoria. I'll just go and get the manager."

But there was no need for Lacey to get anyone because I was beginning to shrink down in size. I was so relieved that my skin was no longer spread like elastic and I could think again. I pulled my dress down and Lacey zippered it all the way up.

"That's hot," she said.

In reality, it was just all right. But I would take it. Like I said, I just wanted it all to be over with.

* * *

Even venting to Ethan at the Great Hall about Daphne's desertion did not curb my anger. She was not there to defend herself, so she was not there so I could offend her. It wasn't until nine o'clock that she strolled into the Common Room.

I walked right up to her. "Why did you ditch me like that?"

"You're lucky I even brought you."

"You're always so embarrassed of me!"

Daphne pointed her wand at me. "Stop thinking everything is about you. Pansy just wanted it to be us three. There's nothing good in that shop, anyway."

I whipped my head around to Pansy. She was sprawled on the couch next to Tracey, digesting _Beauty Spells that Make Wizards Thirsty_. "You're rude," I stated. A few people around us were starting to notice that a conflict was stirring.

Pansy tilted her head up at me. "You're not even old enough to go to Hogsmeade, so shut up."

Was Daphne going to defend me? I had no idea how to respond—I felt smaller than when I shrunk back to my normal size. I glanced at a spell on the book's cover. " _Ausculum_!" I recited.

I was afraid my efforts would be for naught because nothing happened. But then, suddenly, Pansy's lips started to grow. First they appeared sensuous, but they just kept growing until they were wrinkly and deformed. She shrieked as they started to hang, trying to hold them up with her hands.

"Someone get the Prefect!" Tracey screamed. A Ravenclaw in the dormitory was shoved over to Pansy and started deflating her lips.

"You'll be all right if you put some ice on them and rest from snogging for a few days," they told her.

Daphne spun me around. "I can't believe how selfish you are! All of this because of some stupid dance. I even got you in! You're so immature. You think the world revolves around you—"

"My own sister doesn't even care about me."

"Would you even let me finish? Our parents are getting a divorce. Are you listening, Astoria? _Mum and Dad are getting a divorce._ Does that put the Yule Ball in perspective?"

Blaise entered the room and started when he saw us. "I heard what was going on. Are you both all right?"

I sprinted out of there and pushed my way down the hall, tears blooming behind my eyes. The portraits chimed in inquiries asking me if what was the matter, and I could feel the eyes of students about to miss curfew probe at me. Overwhelmed and blinded, I climbed the stairwell on the way to the bathroom. I tottered on the edge of the top step, forgetting that this staircase rotated until it began moving. There was a moment of uncertainty—

Someone steadied me.

I grabbed at Ethan's robes, burying my head in his shallow chest. When I heard Lacey behind him, I pulled them both in for a sappy group hug.

"We heard everything, Astoria," Lacey said, her voice tight. "I'm so sorry."

"Nice spell," Ethan smirked.

I stood up and led them to the Room of Requirement so we would not be seen. Ethan started prattling, not even noticing Lacey pace in front of the door.

"Divorces happen all the time in the Muggle world. My dad had one before he married my mum and almost all of my friends have to deal with verbal abuse, switching back and forth, gift bribery, and all that. So if you have questions, I'm your guy—"

"Ethan, I know what a divorce is!" I was yelling again. "You're just as bad as Niles. Just because you're a Muggle and I—"

"Stop! Both of you shut the bloody hell up!" Lacey's petite body trembled with each bated breath. "Ethan, let's leave Astoria alone. Astoria, stay in here awhile and play the piano or something. That'll calm you down."

Instead I just sat on the bench and cried.

* * *

Ethan's face shone with relief as he saw me arrive at the Quidditch pitch. He swung around on his broom a bit and waved. Lacey shuffled around in her bag until she came up with some chocolate frogs.

"We've gotta keep this interesting somehow."

I was just in time for the Slytherin tryouts, curtesy of shorter parchment assignments for that night. Lacey informed me that Ethan was trying out for Chaser, along with Harper and Niles as well as a few older Slytherins. They did a few run-throughs, seeing on who could score the most goals consecutively. Harper was clearly the best, being sleek, agile, and analytical. He was quiet and watched everything. The older Slytherins were decent, but all with the exception of one had played before, so they would retain their previous positions. Niles was good as well, but he kept fouling the opposing scrimmage team by doing what Lacey called "cobbing." Ethan and him were tied, but Ethan won by default since he played fairly. Lacey and I cheered, which received a few looks from dispersed spectators since no one else knew him. To our relief, Niles was not our for vengeance. But unfortunately, he invited himself over to us to watch the rest of the tryouts—which might have well have been its equivalent.

He lifted his feet up and crossed them on the bench in front of us. "Do you think Malfoy will get Seeker again?"

"I didn't know he was Seeker in the first place," I said. I had never attended a Quidditch game because I tended to avoid social situations involving sports. Or maybe I avoided social situations in general.

"Figures," he replied without elaborating. Lacey excused us before I could let my seething out on him.

"Thank Merlin we left," Lacey whispered even though we were out of hearing range. "The only reason he was talking to us was because he wanted to go with us to the Yule Ball."

"How do you know that?"

"Olivia told me she'd rather go with the Fourth Year, because you know, _Fourth Year_. Then I guess he freaked 'cause well, it's Niles. Plus he's a pretty boy who was really looking forward to it."

"Let me demonstrate how much I care about Niles's romantic—"

"Hey, wait up!" Ethan shouted.

We turned, but he was already there and he charged through both of us, swinging his arm over each of our shoulders. I rolled my eyes.

"How was I?"

I cleared my throat even though it didn't need clearing. "You were so brilliant I almost spilled my pumpkin juice. I couldn't believe Ethan, _my_ Ethan, could do something so brave." I wiped a stray tear from my eye.

They laughed. "Um, Astoria?"

"What, Ethan?"

"Are we good?"

"We were always good."

I was so glad to have them.

* * *

 **A/N:** Soooo, you might be wondering, if this is the fourth chapter, and we're on second yr, what is going on? Well, I want this to be like an alternate Harry P. universe—the Slytherin side, so it might be really long once we get to the parts where they're older and more cruel. It depends what your definition of long is. It also depends where this is going. So you can't really expect anything!

 **Character responses:**

Guest: 1)What would Astoria do if Draco insulted her?

I can't imagine why someone who doesn't even know I exist would insult me. Um...

2)Do you think Ethan can be forgiving about the way the other Slytherins treat him?

Let me put this in perspective for you: Christ forgave me for being a sinner, but he'll never forgive me for being a Slytherin. Does that answer your question?


	5. Take This Waltz

**A/N:** All credit goes to YouTube lyrics to "Take this Waltz" and "Magic Works"! Thanks for the songs in your reviews. :) I recommend listening on YouTube for "the full experience" of this chapter. Leave a character question in your review!

* * *

 _Astoria,_

 _After almost three months of not hearing from you, both your father and I want a response to our letters. I know he has never been one to take the gentlest approach, but this is becoming unacceptable. It is almost Christmas, and I know you are very confused and understandably angry, but you need to at least respond or we will come down to Hogwarts ourselves to take you home. Daphne tells me that you two are going through formalities but have not breached the subject you seem to have been avoiding._

 _As I have said before, I do not wish to discuss these topics over a letter. It is too much to say. I did not approve of you going to the Yule Ball in the first place, but under the current circumstances, I know it is best for you to come home and spend Christmas with your family._

 _Again, I am very sorry about everything. It was not in Daphne's place to tell you things and I hope eventually you can accept both of our apologies._

 _Love,_

 _Mum_

Guilt gnawed at my insides, so I took a quill and began to write.

 **Dear Mum,**

 **I'm so sorry I haven't spoken with you. You're right; I'm very angry. But don't make me come home! Frog Choir is performing and the** ** _Weird Sisters_** **are playing! I've been looking forward to it for months. You can't force me.**

 **Love,**

 **Astoria**

"Be quick," I told Boomerang, and I watched his snow-white body grow smaller in the foreground. When I returned to the Common Room from the Owlery, I bumped heads colliding with Ethan.

"Stor, I've been looking all over for you! The train is about to leave and I've still got to give you your gift."

I frowned, reciting the lines engraved into my being. "You didn't need to buy me a present."

"That's why I didn't! Sorry, but you're only good enough for my best hand-me-down." He pulled a wrapped package out of his robe's pocket adorned with decorated candy canes that bopped up and down in syncopation. It was a poor job of wrapping (not that I could have done any better), but it made the gift personal.

My fingers grazed the paper and I undid everything he had likely worked hard to put together. In anticipation, I pulled out what appeared to be a rectangular Muggle device. There were many guesses of what this contraption could be, but who would want to sound stupid?

Ethan started talking so rapidly that I knew he was nervous about my lofty opinion. "It's my old _iPod Nano._ I'm not even sure they sell those anymore, they're so ancient. It's a freaking dinosaur. But anyway, I know you like music a lot, and you're always up in that place no one ever tells me about, playing the piano. So I figured, why don't I give her all my epic Muggle songs? I know Muggles are disgraceful, but even Purebloods have got to agree their music makes you thirsty for _many_ things. Oh, sorry, I know you don't like my sense of humor, but—"

I shut him up with a backbreaking hug. "Ethan, thank you so much. I'm so excited to listen to this. Your present isn't nearly as wonderful. Sorry."

"Oh, it's fine," Ethan held his neck with his hand as if he was embarrassed. I ran up to my dormitory and shuffled around for the object I had set aside. It rested in the miniscule box we placed them inside while making it in Herbology. Ethan would recognize it just from the package, but it was better than not reciprocating with anything. Lacey suggested we set casual presents aside just in case Ethan gave us something because we were unsure if he would or not.

"Travers, hurry the bloody hell up. The conductor says he's been waiting for one student ten minutes." Flavius Riley had come all the way back to tell this to Ethan. Before Ethan could protest, I shoved the box into his hands and pushed him out the door. The few students left in the Common Room were blathering about the Yule Ball, which was all anyone could think about. Lacey was in our dormitory, giggling over the various prank objects Ethan had obtained from Fred and George Weasley. They truly were making a good business out of them. I plopped the iPod down beside her and told her what was on it.

"Nice, did he like your gift?"

"I dunno. He didn't have time to open it." In Herbology, we had taken flowers and encased them in hardened spider silk mixed with an aqueous solution. I had chosen to immortalize a poinsettia similar in color to the roses in the garden near my house. There was a metal wire attached to the top so Ethan could hang it from his Christmas tree. It turns out that Muggles have those as well, so it was a nice combination. I hoped the gift wasn't too girly for him.

"I'm sure he'll love it."

"He'd probably rather have something Quidditch related. He showed me a special calendar for the countdown to their first match _next year_. Poor kid was really screwed over." It had taken until after tryouts for the team to remember Quidditch was not in season because of the tournaments, but it made them all the more excited to get ahead the Gryffindors. They held clandestine pep talks and everything.

I stared up at the ceiling. Having a permanent residence such as the Slytherin Dungeon makes you unable to get away from dimly lit rooms. You either feel half-asleep or high-strung from the greenish tint seeping everywhere. "What do you say to getting ready?"

"Are you feeling well, Astoria? The dance doesn't start until 20:00 and it's eleven a.m. now."

I ran my fingers over the rough facets of my gnarled wand. "I know, but there's no such thing as being over-prepared—"

"Says the girl who got after-school help in Second Year Potions."

"It's not my best class!"

Lacey sighed. "I wish Ethan was here. You're really not good enough."

"Fine," I said, rising from bed. "I'm going for a walk. It's a beautiful day, a bit cold and snowy for my taste, but nonetheless—"

" _Please,_ stay in bed and mope around like a regular teenager. Stop using words like 'nonetheless,' and—"

"Have fun with your little booby traps and love potions."

I was halfway down the stairs when Lacey shrieked, "They're more than booby traps! This is an obstacle course! And how desperate do you think I am to accept a love potion from _Ethan_?!"

Hogwarts is the most picturesque at Christmastime. Because of magic, not only is everything decorated, but certain charms make it contrast from expected holly and mistletoe. The magic one feels inside is transferred everywhere, and imagination abounds. Infinitesimal faeries scuttle around evergreen trees that rise fifty times my height in the Great Hall. Icicles hang in crystallized shapes from the banisters (a few students have had the experience of their tongues getting frozen to them). The dried snow that falls in the Great Hall tastes like powdered sugar. Eggnog abounds. Best of all, the Knights situated around the castle have eternal tunes they hum while using their armor as instrumentals.

As I ventured outdoors, I spotted Neville practicing his dance moves underneath the mistletoe in the corner of the building. Durmstrang students applauded one another when one scored a last-minute girl to accompany to the Ball. A bunch of blond girls flounced around, discussing Fleur's odds of winning the Triwizard Tournaments. As much as I missed having the castle to the regular lot of students, I was getting used to having a variety of people around.

Draco Malfoy was seated at a table discussing mannerisms with his cronies Crabbe and Goyle. Evidently, neither of them had proffered to take a girl to the dance—not even equivalent Millicent Bulstrode. I caught a few wisps of conversation as I walked past, snowflakes numbing my lips.

"How can I spell this out more simply for you? All you have to do is corner a girl when she has no chance but to say yes, and she'll _have_ to dance with you."

"But how does I ask?"

Draco growled, "You don't ask. You _command_ her to dance with you. And if she still says no, then she isn't worth your damn time. Now, did you two finally get my corsage?"

Why, what a nasty.

A few dispersed members from Frog Choir walked past me without a salutation (I was nonexistent, so they are not to blame). A congregation of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs trudged past (they seemed to always travel in crowds). Even though there was an entire field of hilly snow, I still managed to almost get caught in the maze of students. As all Second Year girls did, I paid my respects to Cedric Diggory and shot a look of angered telepathy to Cho. But Cedric's hazel eyes and pallid skin did not deter me as per usual, because there were the two boys who now boggled my mind even more than a typical day.

"We've gotten so many Galleons from our gadgets that—" said one,

"—we still have some left after buying Christmas presents," finished the other.

Fred and George Weasley were not the best choices to go after in men. Both Blood Traitors, Gryffindors, and significantly older, it would not be the smartest decision to adhere to. But as all unrealistic thirteen-year-old girls did, I pined after the charismatic, ginger twins. I would have to ask Lacey later which one was of better preference.

I stopped at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, resting on a log. I inspected the snowflakes resting on my mittens and figured George might be the best bet because he wasn't the one taking Angelina to the Ball. Wait, how did I know this? Was Ethan right? Did I stalk the twins? No, that was common public information.

I was in the middle of picturing our ginger children when there was an abrupt sucking noise from the depths of the forest.

Or perhaps it was more like ten feet away.

"Blaise, stop! It's too cold for that."

I debated upon clearing my throat, but I cleared it before I could think hard about debating it. However, they went on as they did; Blaise and Daphne, meaning; my sister and Blaise. Kissing. But not the sort of kissing you think is cute. Not the kiss you give to your grandma.

I left quietly.

That's why I do not go for morning strolls.

* * *

" _Carbone_ ," grumbled Olivia, concentrating on my face.

She swiveled the chair around so I could see the effects of the makeup spell. It was one infrequently shown in textbooks required for Hogwarts, but Olivia said it was the most efficient way to apply mascara. Since you cannot create or destroy matter, the spell conjures up the liquid from a Potion powder mix and applies it without a brush or other Muggle hassles.

Lacey and I were ecstatic at the tutorial Olivia was giving us because we never had the opportunity to do anything girlish in a school of wizard hats, robes, and dumplings.

"Do you think we're too young to wear makeup?" I asked, missing the talks I used to have with my mum.

Olivia shook her head. "People seem to think it's a slutty thing for girls our age to paint our faces, but for me, it isn't about getting attention or looking pretty. I'm already _pretty_."

Lacey shot me a look.

"But," Olivia continued, "it reminds me that I'm a woman. I mean, of course it's already obvious that I'm a girl. Just look at me. But with every stroke of my wand, it's like saying, 'Here's your reward for putting up with all that shit. Here's to being a girl.' It's a man's world, but makeup is _ours_. Well," she giggled, "most of the time."

"I'm a feminist too," Lacey professed as she pulled on her dress.

"Oh, I'm not into any of that. The feminism the world believes in is just a girls' version of misogynists. We want more than equality. We don't want stereotypes in the first place."

I examined myself in the mirror. "You're really smart, Olivia. Why do you hang out with Niles and the rest of them?" I cringed afterwards, regretting my blunt choice of words.

"I _am_ smart. They're all hot and popular. _They_ can get me somewhere, at the very least on a plaque. Well, I should get going now. Good talk, girls. Let's do it again sometime soon." She winked and tottered downstairs in her heels.

"We better hurry," I said, throwing Olivia's trundle bag onto her bed. "The Frog Choir has already started warm-ups."

"How do you know that?" Lacey asked, prying on her shoe as we balanced across the floor as if on tightropes.

"Are you deaf? Luna won't stop screeching."

We often harbored entertainment at others' expenses. Anyhow, we clambered down the hall and almost lost a limb on the alternating staircases, but we managed to somehow survive making it to the Room of Requirement.

"Your hair is messed up," Lacey huffed as we stumbled inside, fashionably late. Everyone was at a different location in the room doing warm-ups, from humming to lip drills to arpeggios. Some girls were half-dressed, with boas and strapless dresses being zippered and stomachs sucked in. The guys were busy struggling with ties or in some cases, dress suits that looked centuries old.

"If it's so bad, why don't you do it yourself!"

"I will."

So Lacey stood holding my brunette hair in a half-finished French braid while I traversed to the soprano section. Two Gryffindor girls stuck up their noses when they saw me, and stuck them up even farther when they spotted a Slytherin _alto_. We opened our mouths into vertical spheres while Professor Flitwick assessed the frantic situation. As we progressed upwards into the head tone range, Andrea Kegworth, Luna Lovegood, and Ruth Mina wrung the palpable tension in the air. Some people just need to know when to stop singing.

"Get in your rows!" Professor Flitwick cawed as soon as Lacey finished the tail end of my braid. I scuttled toward the front where I would always be because of my height, or lack thereof, but I still doubted any spectators would notice me. Various instruments were littered across the room, students in position, toads croaking.

"Professor Flitwick!" Lacey raised her hand and I was filled with knowing dread. "I forgot Toad. Can I please go get him?"

Professor Flitwick turned a violent shade of red but nodded. He did a quick attendance and gasped when he realized Neville's frog was unaccompanied.

"He just asked Ginny to the dance," a weary student told him. "That's probably why he isn't here."

"Well, I have to conduct!" He looked around in panic. "Who can take the piano?"

Naturally, everyone looked at me. Flitwick seemed dumbfounded until he remembered that I played. "Do you know the songs?"

I could have lied. I did not want to garner attention to myself, nor did I want to take away from my chance at vocal stardom. Also, who wanted to be second best or a runner up? Is that all a Second Year is ever good for? As a Slytherin, I should have rejected the offer. It would have shown him. He could have just programmed the piano to play the accompaniment.

"Of course, Professor," I said, my voice shaking.

"Thank you, Miss Greengrass. Please take a seat over there on the bench so I can fathom what's going on."

I used the sheet music in my Frog Choir folder to situate on the piano, the notes and phrases drilling through my mind. Because the only songs pre-programmed onto the instrument were the ones Frog Choir did, they were the ones I learned. They were mostly intermediate and played with an orchestra or with operatic voices. Of course, Frog Choir was not that advanced, but it always sufficed (in Flitwick's mind).

"Let us now proceed to the Great Hall. Please help those students with instruments into the room with a simple _Wingardum Leviosa_ spell. Make sure to open the doors for them, as well, or we will end up with dented instruments. Is everyone tuned and ready to go?"

The calm environment was soon disrupted with cussing and regular mishaps associated with music business. I took a deep breath and yelled, " _Wingardum Leviosa_!" at the piano. Despite my preconceived notions, it shot up into the air without a problem. A few students stood gape-mouthed at me, finally paying me some attention. I stared straight ahead even as it wobbled and squeezed it out the doors of the Room of Requirement.

A few students who were unsuspicious of the secret room gawked at me as I led the piano in the direction of the Great Hall. A few clapped and I smiled without taking my eyes off it. I wished Ethan was here to see me perform because his humor would have made me less apprehensive.

"Where should I put this?" I asked Professor Flitwick when I finally made it into the Great Hall. The room was unrecognizable, as the tables were gone. The only resemblance to its old look was the giant sky.

A few gasps sounded when the piano swung in the air as I turned my body. I tried to cover up my embarrassment.

"There—you see—right, now don't drop it—"

There was a scraping noise as the piano settled on the floor and everyone let out an internal breath. By some miracle, my music managed to stay put. Everything was situated and we were soon all in place. We stood on a pristine, white stage with snowy trees lining the back. There was a small podium so Flitwick could conduct and be seen by students in the orchestra. A few students filed in and started chatting while the orchestra did a quick run-through of the waltz. Although it was harder to decipher the piano's melody than when I played alone, my piece was decent and Flitwick nodded to me in approval.

We scattered for a quick supper of goulash and stew, which I could not enjoy because my stomach was a jumble of nerves. Lacey attempted to rev me up for the performance and engage in conversation. I watched the Gryffindors emerge out of the corner of my eye, hopeful George might notice me tonight.

My dress dwarfed in comparison to most of the Slytherins'. Daphne had a tasteful evergreen article that fell in sharpness down to her feet. Her pale skin contrasted with her sharp cheekbones and blue eyes—why didn't I have those genes? She adjusted Blaise's bowtie, to his chagrin. At least he seemed jovial otherwise.

When everything had been eaten and dessert was brought out, the Frog Choir and orchestra were ushered onstage. Some people were grumbling about missing the food, but for once I didn't care. Lacey sat beside me on the piano bench, trying to calm me down.

"You're overthinking this. No one will even care or notice you."

"You're nice!"

"I thought that's what you wanted."

I sighed. "I want _someone_ to notice me."

She smirked and nudged my side. "Ooh, who's the lucky boy?"

"Promise you won't tell?"

"Merlin, Astoria, who do you think I am?"

"Let's try, a Slytherin?"

She waved her hand. "Just tell me."

I blushed, trying to mime who, but it just confused Lacey. I gave up. "Red hair, hand-me-down robes..."

"The Weasley twins! Unless it's Ron, which in that case, I'll disown you."

"Keep your voice down! And George, since he hasn't come with anyone."

She patted me on the back. "Well, if that isn't a star-crossed romance. He's a Gryffindor, Blood Traitor, _and_ older. I better be getting back now. Don't suck!"

Before I knew it, introductions were stated and Flitwick waved his conductor's wand—or was it his real one? My hands moved on their own—I never really understood the feeling behind a waltz, but then I saw the dancers.

Hermione Granger was easily the most beautiful girl here tonight—she probably surpassed the guys, too. For whatever reason, she was dancing with Viktor Krum, the Quidditch player the straightest guys on earth fawned over. I rested my hands for a measure and watched their feet fly over the cadences of violins and cellos.

My hands flew over the keys again and I worked the right pedal to give a more legato feeling to the song even though it was not written in. The melody in my right hand sung strong. I looked outward, concentrating on the music while trying to catch a glimpse of the other dancers.

Cedric Diggory was confident in his suit as he spun around stunning Cho—Fleur was expected to be beautiful, despite dancing with an anonymous Ravenclaw boy—and Harry Potter with the unpredictable Parvati. If Potter's dancing skills had anything to do with his wizardry, I would be scared to be on the other side of that wand.

My piece faded to pianissimo when the Frog Choir stepped forward. They sounded decent tonight; maybe because they were at a distance. I couldn't concentrate on singing and playing at the same time, however, so I looked on with sad eyes as they sung.

 _Now in Vienna there's ten pretty women_

 _There's a shoulder where Death comes to cry_

 _There's a lobby with nine hundred windows_

 _There's a tree where the doves go to die_

 _There's a piece that was torn from the morning_

 _And it hangs in the Gallery of Frost_

 _Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay_

 _Take this waltz, take this waltz_

 _Take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws_

 _Oh I want you, I want you, I want you_

 _On a chair with a dead magazine_

 _In the cave at the tip of the lily_

 _In some hallway where love's never been_

 _On a bed where the moon has been sweating_

 _In a cry filled with footsteps and sand_

 _Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay_

 _Take this waltz, take this waltz_

 _Take its broken waist in your hand_

 _This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz_

 _With its very own breath of brandy and Death_

 _Dragging its tail in the sea_

 _There's a concert hall in Vienna_

 _Where your mouth had a thousand reviews_

 _There's a bar where the boys have stopped talking_

 _They've been sentenced to death by the blues_

 _Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture_

 _With a garland of freshly cut tears?_

 _Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay_

 _Take this waltz, take this waltz_

 _Take this waltz it's been dying for years_

 _There's an attic where children are playing_

 _Where I've got to lie down with you soon_

 _In a dream of Hungarian lanterns_

 _In the mist of some sweet afternoon_

 _And I'll see what you've chained to your sorrow_

 _All your sheep and your lilies of snow_

 _Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay_

 _Take this waltz, take this waltz_

 _With its, "I'll never forget you, you know!"_

 _This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz..._

 _And I'll dance with you in Vienna._

 _I'll be wearing a river's disguise_

 _The hyacinth wild on my shoulder,_

 _My mouth on the dew of your thighs_

 _And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook,_

 _With the photographs there, and the moss_

 _And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty_

 _My cheap violin and my cross_

 _And you'll carry me down on your dancing_

 _To the pools that you lift on your wrist_

 _Oh my love, Oh my love_

 _Take this waltz, take this waltz_

 _It's yours now. It's all that there is._

There were some scattered claps as if they didn't know the song but it was decent enough for the formal introduction dance. It would be unexpected of them to know it because Flitwick told us that it was a Muggle song inspired by the man Federico García Lorca. The teachers appeared to be moved the most because McGonagall and Hagrid were wiping their eyes. Trelawney cheered the loudest, but Snape was not there.

Flitwick waved his wand in a silent incantation. The musical instruments began playing softly by themselves, but it was not the same as when real people were behind them. The students seemed to like it more, though, because they did not have to acknowledge anyone for it. We were almost shoved off the stage. Lacey hugged me when I found her on the dance floor.

"Great job, Astoria! I didn't know you played _that_ well! My little pianist." She pinched my cheek and I cringed.

Soon I saw Daphne standing behind Lacey. She looked awkward.

"Nice job, sis. Keep up the tunes," she said. I tried to smile with some effort, but before anything else could be said, Pansy pulled her away for a group dance.

There was a gigantic circle of Fourth Year Slytherins; they even managed to include antisocial Theo and Millicent. I guess music brought their differences together. I had to give Pansy credit; her dress may have even done Hermione Granger's justice, her cleavage on point as she wished, but her face was slathered with orange foundation that did not help its cause. Otherwise, she and Draco looked good together. It is too bad that snakes always have the prettiest faces. Tracey Davis looked on from the outside of the circle, too prideful to fifth wheel but not desperate enough to dance with Theo and Millicent. I turned my head away when I saw Blaise and my sister doing what Olivia pinpoints as "grinding."

Lacey dragged me away to the front of the stage even though most people mingled toward the back. "That way we can be right here when the _Weird Sisters_ come," she explained.

We laughed when I proffered my hand so we could waltz together. Although there was a large amount of people, it was easy to single out George's red hair—you just had to realize he wasn't the one with Angelina or the ugly suit with a scowl on his face (for whatever reason, Ron looked even more miserable than usual).

I caught a spark in my friend's eyes. "Who are you looking at, Lacey?"

"Olivia said that some Third Year was gonna ask me to dance tonight, but she wouldn't tell me who."

"What am I gonna do when you get asked to dance and I don't?"

Lacey laughed. "We'll do London Bridges." She demonstrated by showing me how you swing your hands and the third wheel goes in the middle. Two more Muggle songs played, but even fellow Slytherins were willing to get down to the guitar riffs in "Demons" by _Imagine Dragons_. There was something about the combination of the man's voice, the drums, guitar, bass, and quiet piano chords that made me feel a kind of sad magic no spell could ever accomplish. By the time "Simple Plan" by _Perfect_ played, I noticed a trend of melancholy to be seen in Muggle lyrics. My father told me that Muggle music was for Blood Traitors who enjoyed sappy love songs, but what could he say to "Simple Plan"? Was my father trying to spare me from a world more appealing than our own?

A few songs later, the announcer shouted into a blared microphone, "Now, for the band that needs no introduction!"

High heels were flung off and sweaty bodies crowded around the front of the stage until Lacey and I were pushed close together. We could feel people breathing down our necks, but that didn't matter when the _Weird Sisters_ took the stage. They came right out, confident and with smirks on their faces, and started playing the first few notes of their single "Do the Hippogriff." With the music playing, people spaced out and were less riled up from the presence of the eminent band. Everyone started flapping their arms and spinning in circles; Lacey gave me a piggyback ride and made Buckbeak noises. It was like flying with background music, except music could never be just background. I reached out with my arms, trying to make contact with the _Weird Sisters._

There is nothing like live music that you can feel vibrating around inside your soul. My adrenaline surged as his voice escalated and we screamed the lyrics with Jarvis. Lacey and I looked on to the lead guitar with hearts in our eyes; his makeup was even more on-point than ours.

After that song, we danced and sung to other singles the _Weird Sister_ had, like "Animagus" and "The Goblin Matchmaker" until our throats were parched and our feet felt numb. We froze when a few gentle guitar notes were plucked.

"Here's to the song that makes you all cry," announced Jarvis, and I felt an inward groan of trepidation.

Everyone fell in together and managed to find someone to dance with. I was amazed of how effortless it was to fall in line with a partner. The crazy Third Year Gryffindor photographer snapped around to find Lacey and asked her to dance. Soon her arms were resting around his neck. I stood there in panic.

 _This one's going out to all the lovers out there._

 _Hold each other tight, and keep each other warm._

 _And dance your final dance_

 _This is your final chance_

 _To hold the one you love_

 _You know you've waited long enough_

"Do you want to dance?" My eyes widened to see Goyle—or was it Crabbe?—standing in front of me after parting through the milling crowd.

"Okay," I said, knowing it might be worse to just stand there. I saw Lacey pull in closer to Colin, but I kept my distance from Goyle/Crabbe. He had a peculiar scent about him. He seemed nice, albeit with a reputation for being stupid. I felt guilty and ashamed all at once for wanting anything but to be there listening to that romantic song dancing with that boy.

 _So, believe_

 _That magic works_

 _Don't be afraid_

 _Of being hurt_

 _Don't let this magic die_

 _The answer's there_

 _Oh, just look in her eyes_

There was George, way in the back, dancing with some Sixth Year Gryffindor girl. My breath was cut short, and it felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.

 _And make your final move_

 _Don't be scared, she wants you to_

 _Yeah, it's hard, you must be brave_

 _Don't let this moment slip away_

I glanced around in bewilderment—how was everyone so still? No one was happy, or sad, just dazed.

 _Now, believe_

 _That magic works_

 _Don't be afraid_

 _Afraid of being hurt_

 _Don't let this magic die_

 _The answer's there_

 _Yeah, just look in her eyes_

Suddenly I hated this song.

 _And don't believe that magic can die_

 _No, no, no, this magic can't die_

It was almost over. And when it was, I would have to deal with what had happened.

 _So dance your final dance_

 _'Cause this is your final chance_

Goyle—I decided—and I parted with a murmured farewell and Lacey found me. "I'm so sorry," she said.

"This is what I'll have to tell my future children. My first dance was with Gregory Goyle."

Her laughter was lost as the band faded into another song. Lacey radiated happiness; at least someone had gotten what they wished for tonight.

When I had the courage to look around, I saw people staring at me. A few Sixth Year Ravenclaws and Slytherins bonded over a few snickers, and a few Gryffindors sneered at me in pity. Suddenly I was so angry—angry at myself for the cowardice of accepting Gregory Goyle as a dance partner, angry at Gregory Goyle to think he was worthy enough to dance with me, angry at _Weird Sisters,_ angry at my parents, my sister.

"I'll catch you later," I told Lacey, not bothering to rais

e my voice in pitch so she could hear it over the noise.

"Astoria, wait! Where are you going?"

"I'm going to sleep. I'm tired. Go have fun with Colin."

She looked distressed, but I knew I left her in decent hands. Colin might have been weird, but any boy was better than Goyle.

When I got back to my dormitory, I took off my filthy dress and flung it into a wrinkled heap underneath my bed. I tossed open the cover of my bed and sat in the dark for a moment, my thoughts and feelings streaming and interwoven with each other. My downy pajamas and the green tint of the room was not a comfort to me. I opened my nightstand door and shuffled around for Ethan's iPod. I opened it up and saw a few labeled folders. I sneered at the irony of "Sad Songs." I put the volume on low so I could hear if anyone approached and started concentrating on the Muggle music.

It is strange that the mundane can turn out to be magical.

* * *

 **A/N:** Astoria's life had to suck a bit in order for her to discover Muggle music. Let me know what you think of the songs and everything else. :)


	6. The Greengrass Family

The year whizzed by with false alarms of stress-induced aneurysms and angina. Up until the Third Task, we staggered through each day as if we were in comas. Based on the first two, it was only obvious that Fleur was going to lose, but the other statistics were unpredictable. The First Task was incredibly exhilarating; Potter's broom trick even made _me_ tempted to actually attend a Quidditch match. The second was impossible to see, as it was underwater, but the wonder of Black Lake and discovering the merfolk held music as a virtue sufficed imagination.

 _How mad do you think it'll be?_ Ethan scribbled to me in D.A.D.A. I hated the dipping feeling in my stomach that came with sneaking behind a teacher's back (especially if it was Mad Eye or Snape), but I wanted to humor him with Pureblood information.

 **Well, last time someone died.** I imitated the platitude Ethan was familiar with by stretching and dropping it onto the floor behind me.

Mad Eye demonstrated how we could only disable enemies by using similar Dark Arts tactics because they would be unsuspecting of this frame of thinking. I took notes on the advanced section at the end of each chapter, Moody claiming it was good exposure to O. W. L. material. (Nothing we ever did followed the textbook's format.)

Since Lacey sat adjacent to Ethan, they scrambled to answer me at the same time. _**Old news, Stor**_ , Lacey wrote. _That's so cool!_

"Do you find death entertaining, Travers?" Ethan responded to Mad Eye's cadence by turning a ghastly shade of corpse, his blue eyes going wide with terror. Had Mad Eye used Snape's trick, or was he just a sorcerer in general?

"Five points from Slytherin for discussing the Tournaments in my class."

Just as Ethan had resigned himself to minimal public humiliation, Niles turned around from beside me. "More like for being _Muggleborn_." It was the first time anyone had terrorized Ethan in a year.

"One more word out of you, Handley, and you'll be first on my list for Splinch testing."

I smiled, more anticipating of Niles's future Splinching than the Third Task.

* * *

Spring Break was quick upon us, and my mum was too eager to receive us at home. Before Daphne had even returned, she was shipped off to Pansy's house. My parents were not as familiar with the Blackwells, and I presumed my mum just wanted me to stay for additional comfort. There were still problems between her and Father; occurrences were best when they were both frigid or cross enough to not regard the other's existence. I wished Father would leave, or that their attitudes would at least change. A divorce would have been better than living like this.

I had barely gotten settled when we received a visitor in the form of Professor Snape. It is always a shock to see a teacher outside of school, let alone in your own house. These visits were not happenstance during these periods of time, but usually the two friends were more lighthearted towards each other. There was always business, but this time it seemed to be serious.

Mum and I sat in the dining hall. Sometimes the two of them would join for dining before their meetings, but today they went straight to Father's office. It was all very well; my mum hadn't prepared anything and no house elf was available.

"Mum, I don't want to be here." I pressed the Lacey issue again.

"Astoria, I need you here. I know I sent Daphne away, but—don't tell her this—she is too much like your father. There's always an ulterior motive with her, always manipulation. I can't deal with two double doses of that right now. You're like him too, Astoria, don't get me wrong, but you've got the positive sides. You're stubborn and want your way. Those are good things when used for the right reasons."

Before I could respond, I was unexpectedly called into Father's office. I looked to Mum for an excuse, but she signaled that I should go. With my father behind his desk and Snape standing with a hardened look down at me, it felt like an interrogation room in Ethan's crime shows.

I wasn't a good suspect. "Why are you so mean to us? Why do you keep hurting Mum?"

"Your mother's weaknesses are none of your business."

I lash out. "You hide things all the time! It's like you don't even care about us. Don't say those things about Mum, just stop—"

"Your mother told you to say that, didn't she?" She had said it in so many words, but it is how I felt deep inside too. But before I could intervene, my mind was being probed—revealed—as my father turned over its insides, and its innards were vulnerable. It was a wretched time lapse and its extraction made me want to curl up into a fetal position.

"Do you know what I just did, Astoria?"

"Yes." I turned away. "You went inside my mind." I snuck a glance at Snape, remembering.

"But what is it called?" Visible frustration flickered across his face. "Wizards refer to it as Legimency. Until you can block an attempt for an infiltration into your mind, don't say things you might regret."

"I can say whatever I want. You've said yourself that it's a free Wizardry."

"Listen! This is not a discussion." He rose from his desk and challenged me with his proximity. My father is not a bulky man, but there is a lot of fury built into him, waiting to be unearthed. But my rage is a powder keg too. It is always the ones with small statures that you have to worry about.

"You have no right to read my mind!"

He grasped my shoulder and my eyes saw red spots. "I have every right as your father. You'll practice this tactic with Severus—Professor Snape—until you're competent. You might have more of a head on your shoulders than your sister, but you won't be a disobedient child because of it. You'll be like Draco Malfoy: watch him. He's always done as asked, and look at all the privileges—"

"What are you talking about?! If this is about you and Mum, I'm not your puppet! Stop asking me to—"

Father shoved me a cross look and turned his back to me. Professor Snape broke the perpetuating silence.

"Is she an asset? Her attitude could provide useful."

"No," replied my father. "The one she'll always report back to is her mother."

"Remember that she is in Slytherin."

My father laughed. "Sometimes I don't understand how…. Get out, Astoria. I'm so disappointed in your behavior. Can I get an apology before I leave?"

I cracked open the door. "I don't apologize to bastards." And I slammed it shut. Now he should understand.

Mum told me everything after she heard me announce my own father is a bastard. I had already known my father participated as a Death Eater in the First War, but now You-Kno-Who's mortality is ambiguous. Snape and the others are worried because it is unclear what is going on, and doubting You-Know-Who's credibility in returning could be a horrific mistake. I cannot tell anyone under any circumstances. The only reasons Mum even knows is from eavesdropping in the middle of the night. She doesn't know a lot, but she knows enough to say without a doubt that my father is loyal to the Dark Lord, at least party by choice. I am distraught: What evil deeds has he committed? Is this the kind of man I have to look up to?

So my father is not just a horrible man or an awful parent. He is truly evil.

"Be careful when you fall in love, Astoria. Make sure you choose someone who's loyal to your children first, you second. You want a happy marriage, and I want you to be happy. Can you see that I'm not happy? I'm telling you this not so you're scared, but so that you know more than I did."

"But Mum, I thought who you fall in love with isn't a choice," I said.

"Love can be a choice if you're strong. If you're strong, you'll know how to say no to what isn't good for you, and yes to what is."

"But what if I want what isn't good for me?"

My mum smiled, but it was not pleasant. "Then, everything is doomed."

In all fairness, I did not understand my father's doings. You-Know-Who's motives and means were beyond me, but why would Father even want to join something with the semblance of a Wizard sorority? How was its sole purpose enough to sacrifice your own family?

Interesting, how the likes of Draco Malfoy could be obedient to that.

* * *

"You're actually pretty good with makeup spells, Astoria," commented Daphne. She was back inside my room for perhaps the first time since summer. We were talking again, forced together by the ambiguous stupefactions of life. This is also known as death.

"It's a natural gift," I lied smoothly. On normal occasions, I would not be able to pull one on her, but our emotions were too numb to read into things.

Our mother's mother, Lucretia Black, had died of a sudden heart attack. Before we were shipped off to Hogwarts, Daphne and I used to be close with the other members of our family and would always see them at Pureblood reunions or other gatherings. Grandmother's death was not unexpected; she had been old and suffered under various problems that required scheduled healing at St. Mungo's. Daphne had already had her fair share of bemoaning, but all I had done was react numbly to the news.

The funeral service was to be the sole gathering because Grandmother preferred to be cremated. Surely based on our family, they were not economic. Perhaps it was rebellion, as the Orthodox Church (as previously mentioned, my mother was born Orthodox) did not contend with that belief practice because it held values adjacent to Gnosticism. Although, I still could not imagine why my grandmother would feel the need to rebel against the religion she practiced. I frowned, beginning to think that I never even knew her.

We were expected to receive many condolences despite her being on my mother's side because of Lucretia's relation to the Black family. My grandfather, Ignatius Prewett, would also be attending, along with several less well known aunts and uncles, with a few of our younger cousins too young to understand much of what was happening.

"I like your skirt," Daphne commented. There was a flash of the mixture of impressiveness and envy. "It's very … formfitting for your tastes."

"I bought it this way, too. It's not even outgrown," I joked drily. The black skirt did look decent—it was classy, but it showed whatever could be perceived as slight curves on a body that was almost too skinny to have any.

"I wish I had your body, Astoria." Daphne inspected her eyeliner, dabbing in certain areas with her wand brush to make it waterproof. "I mean, you're almost too skinny—blokes do like some curves, but it's unfair that you can still eat whatever you want to retain it."

This was the biggest compliment she had ever given me. "Thanks, I guess." I never knew what to say when people commented on my physique as if I were lucky. Daphne was not all by any means fat; she was just normal for a girl her age. Her face was probably the most becoming in all of Slytherin House, but just because she is short does not make her stocky.

"Are any of your friends coming today?" Daphne asked, lounging on my wrinkled bed.

"Ethan knows, but his parents won't let him go somewhere they can't reach him. Lacey's on holiday."

Daphne pouted a sensuous lower lip; she didn't need the spell Pansy did. "Sorry, Astoria. At least you've got me. A lot of my friends are coming, but that's just a coincidence. It's not like they're being nice. Their parents are dragging them 'cause of the whole Pureblood responsibility rules."

"So, who else besides the Malfoys?" I snorted.

"The Parkinsons, of course, and the Davises, maybe the Weasley traitors because of Dad's work, the Carrows, I don't know who else. Half of those I don't even like." She shivered.

"What about Blaise?"

"Well, um. Blaise is a Halfblood through his mother, but now technically he's a Pureblood. You know, his mother was sort of … promiscuous in her day…." Daphne turned an interesting shade of Christmas.

"You never answered my original question."

"Well, yes, probably, but not for the same reasons as the others. Blaise and I are very close, Astoria, as I'm sure you know." I waited. "It's getting pretty … serious."

I couldn't help it: I sneered.

"Oh not like that, you pervert!" My stomach felt better before I knew it had felt bad. "I mean emotionally. Sure, we've got some physical attraction there. So much that Blaise wants…. Well, I don't really know what he wants. I shouldn't be talking about this to you, anyway. It'll be at least until Seventh Year before you even have the courage to kiss anyone."

"Hey! I'm not as much of a prude as you think. It's not like I don't have any guy friends."

"But you're my little sister. I don't want to burden you with this heavy stuff." Clearly she did.

"Tell me," I whined, half playing her. "You already started. I won't tell anyone. No one in your year cares I exist and I can keep a secret well."

"I dunno." Daphne showed the first signs of insecurity I had ever seen on her as she looked down and played with her painted fingernails. "He never actually said he wants to, you know, but he's always buying me really expensive things, always being really nice. He's pressing to meet the family."

I guffawed. "You think a guy's trying to get his way with you just because he's being nice? Wow, you really do model men after Father!"

Daphne turned Christmas again, but this time it was because she was enraged. "I knew I shouldn't've mentioned this to you. You always have to have an immature opinion about everything."

That's when Mum called us downstairs.

* * *

Funerals and wakes are a somber occasion not only because of the death of loved ones, but because it is the only time you see all the members of your family. You are forced to embrace people who you haven't seen since you were just weaned off breastmilk, and then you are made to part with them until the next death. It is sickening to me that the death of a person pushes others together.

Because there was not a wake where we could greet others, we used a few minutes of making introductions before the service. Everyone who normally would not get along in close surroundings were forced to swallow their pride due to the happenings. Daphne was mostly accurate in selecting who would be there. I followed my Mum and sister around to differing Pureblood families, shaking each either sweaty or cold hand. Father had separated from us as usual—he was particularly interested in talking with Snape again. If I didn't know better, he could be romantically interested in him. I was just thankful Mum and Father were forced to be civil with one another.

"Thank you for coming, Mrs. Davis and Parkinson," my mum said, seeming to be weary of the mothers. They all held lofty opinions of Purebloods just as high as marriage, and probably had gossiped about the troubles my parents had.

Blaise looked bewildered inside the Church, but nonetheless scattered over to my sister. He clung to her, but Daphne held back, trying to be modest in the House of God. He whispered nothings to her, and I wished someone could calm me like he calmed her. Blaise greeted my mother and turned to me. He had a charming, dark face, and I figured Daphne had good taste in attractiveness.

"How are you, Astoria?" I hated when people asked me this after Grandmother died, but he seemed to mean it in a general fashion.

"It depends," I said, voice quivering. The reality of the situation was getting to me.

Blaise put his hand on my shoulder; it grounded me. "Your sister and I are always here if you need us. Don't be afraid to ask for anything." He genuinely meant it.

Mum pulled us to the Malfoys. "Narcissa and Lucius, thank you for coming. We also appreciate the flowers. They will make a nice addition to our rose garden."

Narcissa smiled coyly while remaining bashful enough for acquaintances who had not seen each other in a while. "You're welcome, dear. We'll have to do tea again soon. It has been so long since we've gotten together just because."

Lucius ignored the exchange but instead looked to us. "Blaise, Draco didn't tell me that you and Daphne are..." He appeared amused. Draco rolled his eyes and scoffed. I glared at him—he could go home for all I cared if he didn't want to be here.

Blaise looked a combination between scared and exhilarated to brag. "Yeah, we're um, going steady, Mr. Malfoy. I think that's what they called it back in your day." Daphne's blush did not help her embarrassment.

My mum laughed at this. I was surprised at how lax everyone was behaving. "And Draco, how are you? Daphne says you're all working hard for O.W.L. preparation this year."

"Sure, I guess. Whatever helps you sleep at night." Mr. Malfoy thwacked Draco with his cyborg hand, but not in a playful way. Draco rubbed his arm thoughtfully. "Sorry, Father." Mum frowned at the spectacle.

We were then all called to sit in the upper pews for the service. It was the first religious Mass I had attended that I would remember. Mum had a smile of nostalgia on her face, whispering to me that this was different from a regular Mass. The conditions were looser and we could improvise because it was personal on Grandmother's death. I snuck a glance at Grandfather before Daphne and I were called up to do the readings. We had practiced several times in front of our parents. I did not want to read, not because I was afraid I would stutter like Goyle, but because I was afraid I might cry. But Mum encouraged me and Father forced me, so I tilted the microphone in the direction of my voice and began. I looked at Grandfather and how strong he was and took a deep breath.

"A reading from the Book of Ecclesiastes:

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under the heavens:

2 a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

3 a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

6 a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

7 a time to tear and a time to mend,

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

8 a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace."

My voice was shaking by the last verse from suppressed tears that burned in the back of my throat. My heart was beating in my ears until Daphne got through her passage and we sat down.

There were a few religious songs, but Mum said they were ones she had chosen since Grandmother had liked them, and not regular Mass hymns. The Mass was quicker than expected, and soon Cygnus Black, Grandmother's cousin, was standing in front of the podium.

"I've made many memories with Lucretia. Anyone who knew her, I'm sure, would always come out of her house feeling lighter. She'd always give you all the food in her kitchen, even if you were just stopping by. She'd make you laugh about something that happened fifty years ago. I'm sure you know all about that. You're here to remember her, but you're also wondering…. What about after?

"My own wife went to a place once, but she came back first and told me about it. Whatever you believe in, I _know_ that the ideal sanctuary would be a place where we can practice our passions and magic freely, a place where Muggles and Wizards get along. Lucretia deserves to be there, and I'm certain that she is."

* * *

"I'm beginning to regret my gift to you," said Ethan, being jostled by some fellow Ravenclaws in our year. Lacey, Ethan, and I were mushed between others in the caboose of the train, where all the last-minute misnomers make residence. Ethan's mouth was pressed against the window, fogging it and not making the typically envied seat a luxury.

I turned to him, still wearing my headphones. "What?" I smirked.

"You need to socialize more, that's what," Lacey snapped from beside me. She was busy laughing at any joke made while I knew she was secretly seething from the close quarters.

Ethan threw his arm around me, making me uncomfortable due to what Daphne deemed "not enough pre-pubescent exposure to the opposite sex." I thought I was just claustrophobic or something.

"How are you, Stor? Sorry my parents are overprotective Muggles, or I would've come," Ethan claimed, squeezing my shoulder.

"It's all right. Thanks, though," I replied. I preferred not to dwell on my grandmother, but it was nice that Ethan had said something.

"Sorry I was on holiday in Normandy, having the time of my life," added Lacey, and I took that emotion to be sympathy. She took the earphone in my right ear and replaced it in her own, bopping her head in time to the Muggle music.

"You're an idiot, Lace. Who jams to 'My Heart Will Go On'?"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't even know what that is. Here, let me scroll through everything to see if there's something I might recognize."

"Trust me," Ethan snorted, "you won't know anything."

"You're emo, Stor," stated Lacey, "and have an unhealthy dose of social anxiety. Let's try an exercise." She pulled my iPod away from me and I instantly was grabbing for it, causing a commotion on the train. (There is nothing like a soprano when she is screaming.)

"I'll give it back when you introduce yourself to Fay. I want to see you make a new friend all by yourself. Go on." Ophelia Rushden was a diffident Ravenclaw girl in our year that seemed adept in making studies a top priority. Lacey was smart to not engage me with someone who was extroverted, but I would never admit that she held my best interests at heart.

"Hi, Fay. I've never talked with you much, but I'm Astoria Greengrass." Ethan snickered at my awkwardness. I mumbled at him to shut up.

"I know who you are, Astoria!" She waved her hand in an errant gesture. "So, who do you guys think will win the Tournaments?"

I sat up straighter. "I know who I want to win, but I know who will win because of favoritism and luck." My badge flashed on my robes. (I was not for bashing Harry Potter, but I was all for supporting Cedric. Sometimes you have to take the good with the bad.)

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Favoritism? Half the school wants him dead. And you think Potter's lucky he's an orphan who almost gets maimed every year?"

Lacey crossed her arms. "You're just defending him because you're Muggleborn."

Ethan stood up and snatched the iPod from her grasp. "Come on, Stor," he said vehemently. "I've had enough of this crowded compartment. Too many Purebloods in such close quarters. I might choke myself."

I didn't bother reminding him that my family is members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Instead, I threw an apologetic glance at Lacey and was thankful she at least had Fay to converse with. When we exited the room, Ethan visibly relaxed and I was glad I had made the decision to join him. I shoved some Sickles at the cart-woman and presented a chocolate frog to him. He smiled, breaking it in half before sliding into a table in the back of the Slytherin section of the train. It was more open than a compartment, but everyone had congregated inside, so we were alone.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Ethan shook his head, handing me my side of the earphones. We spent the rest of the ride back to Hogwarts in a pensive state, lost in the music.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry if this chapter was awful! I'm not Orthodox and am still experimenting with a lot of the plot, so it might seem all over the place. I promise the next one will make up for it. Leave a review of your favorite sad song (lol, this chapter is depressing even in the author notes) to be featured in the next chapter!


	7. The Wedding Party

**A/N:** Rights to the epic songwriters, performers, etc. that are mentioned!

* * *

We were on the train again. This time we were smart enough to get a compartment ahead of time and lock the doors so no one would intrude. To keep in the depressed mood, I blared the folder "Sad Songs" as we sat around, trying to evade the heat and boredom. Lacey scrolled through the list, picking her favorites.

"My Immortal" by Evanescence

"The Heart Goes On" by Celine Dion

"Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen

"Summer of '69" by Bryan Adams

"With or Without You" by U2

"Piano Man" by Billy Joel

"Against All Odds" by Phil Collins

"Arrivederci Roma" by Perry Como

"Dancing in the Dark" by Bruce Springsteen

"Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler

"Think of Me" from the Phantom of the Opera

"Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum

"Seasons in the Sun" by Terry Jacks

"California Dreamin'" by the Mamas and the Papas

"Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" by Green Day

"Faithfully" by Journey

"I can't believe Dumbledore," I snapped, reiterating the last day's synapse of conversation. "He should have made the Tournaments safer, especially during these dark times."

Ethan flung what he called a "bouncy ball" at the window and back into his hand. "Dumbledore can't control the Tournaments! They're thousands of years old."

"You're making excuses!"

Lacey stretched. "Are you saying that Dumbledore's responsible for Cedric's death?"

"No. I'm just saying that he could've prevented it if he had some common sense." Ethan stretched into a horizontal position on the seat.

"I hate to break it to you, Stor, but you're starting to sound like dear ol' sissy."

"And Malfoy—" added Lacey.

"And Pansy, and Niles—"

"I get it," I said, breaking Ethan's fervent gaze.

"So, what are your plans for the summer?" Lacey asked Ethan.

Ethan sat up, his hair ruffled. "I've got a whole bucket list. I'm pranking some Muggles, jumping off London Bridge with a magic carpet, going to an Italian bar—"

"How would you get into a bar in the first place, let alone an _Italian_ one?" asked Lacey.

"My parents are taking us to Italy."

"Us?" I echoed.

"Me and my brother and sister."

"You never told us you have siblings!"

"You never asked!"

Lacey's face grew red. "Just tell us about them already, bloody hell!"

"Well, my brother started Muggle secondary school this year. He's got a really hot girlfriend, from what I've seen. He plays the electric guitar until my parents bang on the ceiling from going deaf. You'd prolly like him, Stor—he wants to go into music. He's pretty smart, but would be better if he gave a shit—"

"His name, Ethan," Lacey deadpanned. "You've told us literally everything else."

Ethan's cheeks flamed. "Mark. Oh God, _please_ shoot me the next time I go on like that. I can't stop. It's a problem."

"But I wanna hear about your sister," I whined. Lacey banged her head on the window repeatedly.

"Her name's Natalie and she's eleven. My parents force her to play soccer and the flute but I don't think she likes either anymore. We haven't—well she's sort of upset that I left since we were really close. She's hoping for a letter this year, because she doesn't really like much of anything." I wanted to remind him of how young his sister was—bloody hell, we barely were old enough to find our own niches.

"At least you don't have annoying, young twin brothers," Lacey sneered.

"At least your sister isn't—" I started.

"A bitch?" finished Ethan. "I know."

I was quiet for the remainder of the trip, pondering on all the ways my life could have been different; all the ways it could have been better. When the train stopped at Platform 9 and ¾, I followed my friends outside and viewed reuniting families and coal smoke in a daze.

"Don't forget to _write_ ," I emphasized to no avail when Lacey broke my back in our hug. She was so absentminded.

A few Ravenclaws waved to Fay as she approached us. "Hi, you three! What are you doing this summer?"

"Nothing, really," I told her. "Lacey likes to remind me that I don't have a life."

"Actually," interjected Lacey, "both the Blackwells and Greengrasses are invited to Bridget Parkinson's wedding this Saturday."

"So am I," smiled Fay. "I heard she's even worse than Pansy."

"I heard Bridget forced Gabriel to marry him on account of her baby," I added.

"I heard it's not even his!" Lacey exclaimed.

Ethan sighed. "Girls are hopeless. Someone just died and here you're talking about—"

"See you at the wedding!" Lacey shouted, and rushed off to her perfect blond family, not seeming to mind the twins anymore. I waved.

"Bye, Astoria," Faye said. "My controlling parents are beckoning me."

"You too! Write me what you're wearing to the wedding."

I began to glance around for my family when there was a tap on my shoulder. Ethan was behind me, and I realized I hadn't lost him in the throng of wizards.

"Sorry you're always surrounded by girls," I said suddenly.

Ethan shrugged. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't mind, but it's not bad." He smirked. "I'll expect it'll be to my advantage in the coming years."

I flicked his head while giving him a hug. Ethan had a nice scent about him, reminding me of security and a home better than the one waiting for me. There was something to cherish about the way he still didn't quite fill out his robes and his wavy mess of brown hair, or just the constant nagging of his presence.

"Will I see you this summer?" Ethan asked me.

I looked away, nervousness gnawing itself into my bones. "I don't think so. My father..."

"I understand." Did he, though? "Well, Mum's waiting with a bowl of pasta to fatten me up, so I better get going."

I waved despondently, feeling a pit form its way through my stomach. When my mum and Daphne finally retrieved me, I realized that Lacey still had my iPod.

* * *

The next few days went by in a blaze until the wedding. I could care less about Bridget Parkinson, and I suspected Daphne felt the same. But she spent time primping and preparing for other reasons—she had a whole routine, and for the first time in our lives, rose before I did in the mornings. She would work up a sweat doing whatever exercises Tracey had taught her and Pansy. There was some initiation chant that went something along the lines of, "I must, I must, I must increase my bust." Ethan mentioned the girls at his middle school doing the same thing. I remembered that Tracey is a Halfblood and had to stifle laughter at Daphne being contaminated by Muggle breast practices.

Daphne also experimented with makeup and hair styles. She tried growing extensions with Mum's wand and darkening her complexion until she looked a nauseous shade of neon orange. She hydrated her skin incessantly with imported lotions from anonymous countries. But most of all, she practiced dancing in her dress; as much as she could move with the stiffness of anti-wrinkling charms. As an event that didn't involve Hogwarts, Daphne proclaimed this was a bigger deal, with more diversity and chances of quality. Even if she was with Blaise, there would be many other future prospects to be prepared for—such as older guys from foreign countries and alcohol. And of course, Blaise's mother. For someone who over-exaggerated everything, Daphne blew this development over too quickly.

It seemed the entire intermediate Greengrass family was regarding this occasion with trepidation. My mum did not like anything she had to wear, my father was against attending, and I was not sure what to expect. But as Purebloods do, we sucked it up and painted our faces so we would look good doing it.

While Daphne worked on her waterfall braid, I pinned my brunette hair up with a few metallic barrettes and bobby pins, barely managing that. My eyes watered as I struggled to put on eyeliner manually, since Daphne was using Mum's wand. I frowned at my face, wondering if any spell could make it more exotic or captivating and realizing nothing could. Daphne threw her old black heels into my room, a mark etching itself onto my door. They were already uncomfortable and wobbly on me, but it was worth the extra height.

Daphne and I both exited our rooms at the same moment—only because I didn't have a wand. She regarded my appearance, assessing whether she would admit me as a relation in public.

"The flowers on your dress are pretty. Purple does wonders on you, Astoria."

I began to open my mouth.

"How do I look?" She wrung her hands together. "Do you think Blaise will like it?" Daphne looked spectacular, but something made me want to avoid that question. How could I forgive her for being … her?

"I'm sure Blaise's mum will like it just fine."

"I didn't say anything about Blaise's mother."

"But you're thinking it."

Daphne tagged on my bony wrist, stuck between begrudged impressiveness and being abashed. "C'mon, or Dad will kill us. The Portkey is set to leave in five minutes." We were scheduled to take a Portkey because the Parkinsons did not want people showing up in the middle of their living room in a pile of fireplace ashes. Throwing up for a first-time Side-Along Apparition was out of the question. Mumbling apologies to our parents, we rushed into the backyard and near the field of roses. The scent was even more overwhelming than usual, and both Daphne and I stood transfixed until our parents pulled us to the birdbath, which was supposed to be a bequeathed family heirloom.

"I hate Portkeys," my mum grumbled.

"Suck it up and hang on tight," my father told us.

I looked down into the stagnant dew lining the concrete birdbath, and my stomach felt like it had gone up to my head. It was a feeling similar to having Snape or McGonagall stare after you've been whispering, or approaching the Boggart in the cellar. Discombobulated and feeling helpless, I reached out for some solidity.

My body landed on gravel. It scraped against my knees and black spots floated across my vision. A voice could be heard complaining of getting grass stains on her dress. Pain arched across my head, but I steadied myself when my father helped me up.

My father regarded us all. My mother joined him, halfheartedly reminding us to have good manners. Of course, Father had to turn it into a tangent.

"I expect you girls to behave appropriately at this occasion. You aren't obligated to stay with me and your mother, but you must greet every guest and pay your respects to the Parkinsons. As part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, you _must_ set an example that we are the finest brand of Wizards. Do whatever you want, but _don't_ make fools of yourselves. Always use your manners and try not to talk to any Blood Traitors or Squibs. Not that we expect there to be any, but you never know nowadays."

Daphne nodded, staring over his shoulder. I stared at the ground, an agitated feeling working its way into my system. My parents both changed their personas as we approached the ivory gate looming below the Parkinson mansion. Daphne imitated them, adjusting her posture and regarding the world through a calculating eye. But my back would not move, and my eyes are soft brown.

"Have fun," my mum whispered into my ear before they opened the gate. I smiled, perhaps a bit too big, as I heard the people talking and the festivities behind Mrs. Parkinson.

"Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass!" Despite her lopsided grin, she studied my parents' interactions. "Daphne and Astoria, how beautiful you look! Oh, you just missed the ceremony. I cried so much when Bridget—" She sidled as she kept talking, my mum and father looking on as if they cared an inkling. The gate clanked shut.

I tugged at Daphne's hair, forgetting our grudge. "This is amazing," I said out the side of my mouth.

She walked forward, her eyes going big. "Merlin!" she exclaimed softly.

So many things whizzed past my vision that it was hard to keep track. Food, wine, and tents were everywhere, and The Weird Sisters blared from a distance. There were several tents with people promising different magical charms to its visitors, a psychic lair, an ice sculpture, and a gargantuan cake the size of the chandelier in the Great Hall. Some people were seated at tables, but most mingled around, some dancing near the stage where The Weird Sisters played.

"Daphne!" shrieked Pansy. "Thank Merlin you're here, we're just about to head out on the lake!" Pansy was dressed in the same gown from the Yule Ball, and even Daphne had trouble feigning normalcy at that fact. Tracey scuttled behind, coming up from the hill, looking miserable like she did at the Ball. Draco sauntered up beside Pansy, who glared at Daphne when she gave him a hug. To prove her point, Pansy latched onto Draco's arm, and her laughter made his carefully groomed blond hair fall out of place. (Crabbe and Goyle were on the lake, manning the canoe.)

"Blaise is over there!" she screeched. "Why don't you go say hi to his mum, Daph?"

Daphne paled and I sighed and started making my exit. But Daphne grabbed onto me, preventing my escape. Blaise approached with his mother trailing behind him. She was a gorgeous woman, with sinewy limbs and high cheekbones. She had minimal makeup on but was the most beautiful woman at the reception. Her dress was laced with crimson and black—she could pull it off, too, considering she must have been in her early thirties.

"These are my friends, Mum," Blaise said, looking as if he was constipated. (Can you blame him?) "That's Draco, and that girl hanging off him is Pansy, that's Tracey, and—"

"How do you like the wedding so far, Mrs. Zabini?" Pansy interrupted.

"How do you know whether I'm a married woman or not?" I suppressed a snort, but not very well.

"And who is this?" Ms. Zabini inquired, causing me to freeze.

Blaise smiled. "That's Astoria Greengrass. And this is Daphne, her older sister and my … girlfriend."

Daphne smiled forcefully, trying to kiss up to someone who did not care for tactfulness. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Zabini!"

Daphne was ignored. "I will see you later, Blaise, and hopefully among better prospects," she stated, strutting off.

Blaise blushed. "Mum doesn't get out much. She's too busy getting divorces."

"I'd get divorced from her, as long as it meant marriage first," Draco said, smirking after Blaise's mother. It was smarmy on his face.

"Would you really want a wife that's so rude?" Pansy whined.

"I better go before I say something I might regret," I told Daphne. She barely acknowledged me now, but hung onto Blaise, who hadn't even bothered to defend the barrage against his mother.

Tracey came over to me. "I saw your little friends by Trelawney's tent a few minutes ago, if that helps."

"Thanks, Tracey!" I exclaimed, hobbling away.

"And she said 'I'd shun a friend when the fear Reaper came'!" Fay giggled. "She was wrong about everything, even my House. Divination this year will be _so_ painful."

"Yeah, it's bollocks according to Daphne. What'd she tell you?" I asked Lacey.

Lacey smoothed out her white; yes, lace, dress. "Let's just say, the only thing she was right about was my aptitude for food." I pried for more information, but she shoved me inside the tent flaps, claiming her and Fay would be back with some punch.

Trelawney was surrounded by candles and teacups in a dimmed room similar to the tint of the Slytherin dungeons. She had large spectacles and a faraway look to her squinting eyes. The woman looked up at me, gnawing on her lip.

"Hi, I'm—"

"Don't tell me your name. Sit, girl, and show me your hands." I obeyed, plotting myself on the pillow on the ground. Why did Bridget want a "psychic" at her wedding, again?

Trelawney examined the lines on my hands, claiming that the chains meant hardship. This was going so well. She then shook some herbs up in the teacup and asked me what I saw. My father would have called this a Rorschach Blot, but there were too many things it could have been. I caught a whiff of the scented tea.

"I smell roses," I said.

"Yes, yes, I can see clearly now…." The candles flickered and I tried to keep my face placid. "You will marry a Muggle and have nice little children. You're singing carols around a … a closet. You are drowning the roses in darkness. The darkness has a mouth, and it is drowning the Muggle. The darkness is drowning the Muggle. The roses prick you. They prick, they prick, they prick."

I murmured my sardonic thanks and bolted from the tent. Lacey and Fay were waiting outside for me, punch sloshing over in a glass Lacey had retrieved. She handed it to me and I gulped it down, letting the sugary coating line my lips.

"What'd she say?" asked Fay as Lacey said, "You're welcome."

"She showed me a stupid teacup and I said I smelled roses and she said I would marry a Muggle and that the roses would prick me—"

Lacey guffawed. "ASTORIA'S GONNA MARRY ETHAN TRAVERS! I _knew_ it! That woman was at least right about _something!_ "

"Shut up!" I yelled back, feeling around for my wand in the invisible pocket of my dress. I had brought it along for good luck despite its uselessness.

"Why don't we play some games?" suggested Fay. I nodded, thankful for our new mediator.

Lacey was still laughing quietly to herself as we approached the tables and additional tents. Various games with mysterious prizes resembling heirlooms were set up. We played a few rounds of Squirt-Wands, in which you had to squeeze a larger-than-life wand and hit the target with water the fastest. There was also a Quidditch simulation, which I sat out. The prizes were awful and uninteresting; they appeared more like dark artifacts than anything else. We finally settled on one game for the majority of the time, aiming Skrewt eggs at open-mouthed guppies. The prize was a dragon egg, but after half an hour of aiming, we quite and decided to join the adults at dinner.

The entire mirage of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and every other Pureblood family I had ever laid eyes on was seated pompously at each white table, most presenting their family crests. I felt proud to be surrounded by familiarity of extended family. However, everyone had an uptight aura, even as they laughed. Mrs. Parkinson banged on her cup with her wand, and I heard her order someone to go find her daughter so she could be present.

"Before the feast, I want to say a word of blessing for Bridget. Bridget, I'm so proud of you. You were always so good in school, and you always took advantage of all the privileges Slytherin House had to offer. I've taken so much pride in raising you on our beliefs. You've embraced your Pureblood heritage so fully. Like I said, you've always been smart, and it shows when I can see you've married into … various riches. I can say truthfully that for both me and your father, you've exceeded expectations." She clinked glasses with Mr. Parkinson, then downed the large amount of firewhisky inside.

Pansy scuttled up from the dock, dirt smeared on her face and her dress limp with wetness in a few patches. Her hair and makeup were disheveled and her shoe was missing. Even when Bridget shot her the glare of death, Pansy smirked back smugly. My sister and the others were still on the lake, and there was a bit of prattling when Crabbe fell into the water.

Lacey grasped my arm and motioned Fay and I over to a vacant table. "I might not be part of the Twenty-Eight, but my parents always drag me to these things, so I know what to expect." Similarly to Hogwarts, a gargantuan feast appeared on the table based on Bridget's orders.

"This is the appetizer to the appetizer," explained Lacey, stuffing her napkin displaying the Parkinson crest in her collar. She pointed to the dishes rotated on a circle in front of us. "That's caviar, and the stuff in the sauce is crab. That bubbling drink is champagne."

I reached for some bread and butter. Fay struggled as she tried to scoop off the crab goop onto her plate. I studied the array of silverware in front of me, thankful for the dinners my mum used to have so I would not be a complete fool. Lacey gestured to other dishes with French names that made my head spin. I reached for a sophisticated version of fruit salad and snuffed it up quickly. Besides the bread, everything was pretty insubstantial.

Lacey grasped the champagne and winked at me. I swallowed a piece of delectable bread and held mine like I was experienced with the art of sipping alcohol. Fay's eyes crinkled.

"What if my mum sees?"

Lacey waved her hand. "It's a wedding. Everything goes at weddings."

"Like Pansy Parkinson resembling Buckbeak's rear end?" I asked.

"She always looks like Buckbeak's rear end, Astoria. Bloody hell..."

Fay giggled, the champagne sloshing in her glass. "It's probably because she was kissing Draco. Everyone has been hinting at them to get together."

I toasted with my friends, hoping the wine would be better than the taste in my mouth. "To Buckbeak's rear end," I said, taking a sip. I had tried wine before and it was fine, but the champagne's aftertaste was repugnant. Lacey's face turned red with the effort of trying not to cough, but Fay appeared unfazed.

"So, Astoria," said Lacey, and her smirk made me face her with trepidation. "You and Ethan."

"No," I snapped. "Trelawney's loonier than Loony. Do you like anyone, Fay?"

Fay glanced down bashfully. "I sort of talk to Astrix sometimes. You know, the Gryffindor in our year?"

"Yes, he seems nice."

"The arrogant one who thinks he's gonna be the next Quidditch prodigy? Of course I know Astrix!" Lacey exclaimed. I cringed in her direction.

Fay was not bothered by her comment. "He needs to work on how he comes across. He doesn't really act like a Gryffindor."

"More like a snobbish Ravenclaw or Slytherin," I added carefully.

"Ravenclaw," Fay admitted. "He's one of the best in our class."

"Lacey likes a Gryffindor. She danced with Colin Creevey at the Yule Ball. He was there taking photographs or something, but he neglected the second half of the night thanks to—"

"My hot bod. Yes, Stor, we know. But it's not worth getting worked up over a Gryffindor who didn't even talk to me afterwards."

"I bet he was shy!"

Lacey rolled her eyes. "I _hate_ these conversations. So, Astoria, are you still crushing on George Weasley?"

"You hate these conversations when they revolve around you!" I squealed.

Fay set her now empty champagne down; who could blame her? "Why don't we go jam to The Weird Sisters? They still have an act left, I think."

"Great idea, Fay," I replied, standing and smoothing out my dress. The Sistershad excavated to the Parkinsons' ballroom on account of dusk falling and the dinner feast being held inside their house. I would never mind having an outside concert, but most Pureblood families were infamous for being party poopers. When we reached the ballroom, I began to understand the hype due to its extravagance.

There was a diamond chandelier in the centerpiece of the ceiling that was decorated with medieval paintings. Some of the images depicted morbid depictions of the Inquisition, with Muggle persecution and Wizard disappearances with fire magic tricks. Everything was adorned with gold, from the staircase entrance to the pillars decorating the sides of the wall. The great room was filled with bright light that streamed from the air itself. Two staircases climbed spindly to a platform from which The Weird Sistersplayed. Their musical diversity was astounding; they were able to make an electric guitar ballad to incorporate the ballroom theme.

Bridget and Mr. Parkinson had their father-daughter selection, and then older couples swayed back and forth. We stood watching for a while, not feeling noble or elegant enough to join everyone else. Fay pointed out her parents standing on the side, claiming they did not believe in dancing. The Blackwells seemed to be having a grand time. I wished I had parents like Lacey's: blond and young (for parents) and carefree. My own were discussing something from the sidelines, but they appeared to be having a decent enough time.

"Too bad Goyle's not here for you to dance with," Lacey said, smirking. I realized that none of them were; my sister had been canoeing for close to two hours. The only students I recognized that were present were Millicent Bulstrode, standing awkwardly at the sidelines like a wallflower, and Theodore Nott, who I heard had not even been invited.

"Look, there's Blaise," Fay pointed.

Blaise glanced around frantically, and then stopped abruptly when he saw me. He started walking with comical purpose, except I could tell from the expression on his face something was wrong. He even managed to dodge his mother, who had switched dance partners yet again.

"Is Daphne missing?" I blurted.

Blaise shook his head. "But she's in trouble." He wrung his hands. "We were playing this game in Pansy's room and—"

"Well, what do you expect Astoria to do?" asked Lacey.

Blaise splayed his hands over his face as if he was about to have a nervous breakdown or was having an episode of IBS. "Well, she's her sister. I figure she should, I dunno." Blaise seemed to be under the impression that Daphne and I were close.

"Just take me to her," I grumbled, still concerned of the looming unknown. Lacey raised her eyebrows and I said that she and Fay they might as well wait.

I could not say that I was surprised when Blaise took me to the third floor bathroom and I heard retching from within. He banged on the door and Tracey poked her head out.

"Get the hell away, Blaise! She's sick and doesn't want to see you. How many times—"

"I brought Astoria," explained Blaise. "Where are Pansy and the rest of them? It _was_ Pansy's vodka and Draco's idea."

Tracey squeezed her fists together as if she was premeditating murder. "They said they'd be back with a solvent ten minutes ago, but they prolly got stuck in a closet somewhere. Skeevy shitbags." Daphne cried out and Tracey turned her head to make sure she was still alive. "Crabbe and Goyle are still passed out, but I think they're just tired." Daphne swore for Tracey to come back. "Look Blaise, you've got to go. Like _leave_. She'll never forgive you for this."

Before I could gauge Blaise's reaction, Tracey grasped my bony wrist and dragged me into the bathroom. I gagged on the air and plugged my nose, taking deep breaths out of my mouth. Daphne was hovered over the toilet, makeup marred over her face from crying. Her hair was unkempt and her dress was slipping from her shoulders. Droplets of puke were scattered over the floor.

Tracey pressed a cold washcloth onto Daphne's forehead. "Where—are—those—motherfuckers?" Daphne growled. "I can't believe they would do this to me and then leave me here!"

"Maybe Astoria can find the solvent?" asked Tracey.

"No," Daphne shook her head. "It's too risky. Astoria, you've got to cover for me. Mum and Dad ... Just tell them I'm staying over." She sobbed into her hands. "Will it ever stop _hurting?_ "

I had never seen my sister like this, and despite what we had been through, it scared me. I stared at the scene, wondering what had happened and felt a great sadness wash over me from Daphne's despair.

" _Astoria,_ " she grimaced. "Go. Tell them."

There was so much sweat in the air. I could hardly breathe.

"No," I replied, surprising even myself. " _No,_ Daphne. I won't do this for you. Figure it out yourself."

I tore down the stairs and into the ballroom, almost cracking my head open in the process. I found Lacey and Fay in the same spot, probably giggling over the way Crabbe had just lumbered into the room like he had no clue where he was.

"Come on!" I exclaimed, ignoring the glares from around me. "Let's go out on the lake!"

Fay and Lacey shared an exclamatory look and we shoved our way through partygoers and hostesses to reach the outside world. The breeze hit us after opening the glass doors. It was a wonderful, freeing feeling, and I felt glorious as I looked up at the constellations. Everywhere was deserted with the exception of couples whispering in corners and House Elves shuffling around with broken glasses.

We threw our shoes on the top of the hill and skittered downward, feeling the wet dirt cushion our feet. There was a canoe attached to the dock by a single rope. There were a few empty wine bottles broken against the bottom, so we treaded carefully to our seats. Fay grabbed the paddles and used her arm power to send us out on the clear waters. It was pitch black besides the stars shimmering upwards, so we screamed and laughed and did not care if anyone heard.

"Let's do a performance!" I suggested when we reached the center of the lake. Fay pulled the paddles inward and let us hover over the water.

"You mean, like perform a song?" asked Lacey, smirking with evil pleasure.

Fay laughed. "I'll be the audience, then."

"Suit yourself," I said. I whispered in Lacey's ear and she cackled. We tore off our itchy dresses and faced the black night in our skivvies, swinging our flowered dresses around. Had Daphne's alcohol consumption been contagious?

Lacey started the song we had stolen from Flitwick's archive:

 _"_ _Friday night and the lights are low_

 _Looking out for a place to go_

 _Where they play the right music, getting in the swing_

 _You come in to look for a king."_

Lacey swung her dress around like a rodeo, walking on the canoe seats like they were tightropes. I continued in a clear voice while shimmying:

 _"_ _Anybody could be that guy_

 _Night is young and the music's high_

 _With a bit of rock music, everything is fine_

 _You're in the mood for a dance_

 _And when you get the chance..."_

We chorused:

 _"_ _You are the Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen_

 _Dancing Queen, feel the beat from the tambourine_

 _You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life_

 _See that girl, watch that scene, digging the Dancing Queen!"_

Lacey panicked when she forgot the second verse, but Ethan's Muggle musicals taught me well. I stood up on the edge of the canoe, spreading my arms out in a V like the stars were spotlights.

 _"_ _You're a teaser, you turn 'em on_

 _Leave them burning and then you're gone_

 _Looking out for another, anyone will do_

 _You're in the mood for a dance_

 _And when you get the—"_

I shrieked as Lacey feinted to push me into the water and I tottered over the edge. Physics and bad luck intervened and I fell over into the lake. The water was so cold and it was up in my nose, making me sputter and cough. I reached for my wand instinctually and pointed it at Lacey, who was lying on the canoe and dying of laughter.

" _Levicorpus!_ "

Lacey gasped as she hung upside down. I panicked, realizing that my father would kill me for getting expelled. The spell broke, and Lacey plopped into the water beside me. Fay peered over at us.

Lacey had tackled me and was shoving me underwater, but I kicked at her and she writhed away in pain. She reared toward me again, but we saw a shimmering object. Waves started moving in our direction, signaling that we were not alone.

Lacey and I shoved each other to get onto the canoe first. Fay grasped our arms and we catapulted ourselves upwards. The canoe swayed from the sudden weight and almost tilted into the water.

I shivered from being drenched, unable to even cast a drying spell. Fay shoved us our dresses and we put them back on so we would not look as ridiculous.

"Who was that?" I asked, teeth chattering.

"I think it was Draco Malfoy," said Fay.

"How do you know?" asked Lacey. "I couldn't see a thing."

"His hair is so blond it's practically glow-in-the-dark."

"Great!" I shoved my hands up in the air. "He's the biggest douchebag of Fifth Year. We'll be his first victims. Ten Galleons says the rumors will start before school's in session."

"I don't think he saw who it was," Fay said. "Goyle was prolly manning the canoe anyway, considering Pansy and him were all over each other."

"Just never sing in front of him or he'll know," Lacey said. I blanched, praying she was right.

We waited for our clothes to dry to a dampening rate and went back to the party. As I wrung out my hair, I could see the mansion had a thousand enchantments glamored to make it appear more than it was.

* * *

 **Dear Ethan,**

 **How's your summer going? Are Italian bars to your liking? The wedding was … interesting. If you hear anything weird, just assume that Malfoy is a perv. I actually used magic at the wedding, but we were swimming, so I guess wand alerts aren't waterproof! Sorry we can't see each other. I'll be lounging around all summer, though, so feel free to write anytime.**

 **The girl who is satisfied with beating the system,**

 **Astoria**

Daphne's binge turned out to be undiscovered by our parents, but she was still punished for immature behavior during the party. My mum was the only one who noticed that my dress was damp, but she did not bring it up since Father was oblivious.

The summer consisted of me reading spell-books and listening to the iPod. It was boring and I missed everyone, but it was hard to make plans. Daphne found any excuse to leave and spent most of her time at Tracey's, but she would use any excuse to get away from "the broken home." Daphne never brought up Blaise or talked to me beyond cordialness. I still had no idea what had happened or what prompted her to drink more than anyone else at the reception.

Mum and Father were the same, always treading carefully when forced to interact. When Lacey and I could coordinate, she would come over and I would avoid them both. The question of seeing Ethan wasn't worth stirring trouble over: a Muggle-born _and_ a boy? I had to just suffer through the next few months and cherish the minimal letters he sent me during sparse free moments.

Father had finally given up prodding through my mind to no defensive avail, so Professor Snape was coming to teach me. Why were they doing this if the answer of recruiting me was a stark no? Daphne didn't have to deal with any of this. Was it better that my father would no longer enter my mind, or worse because my teacher would?

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter is mostly a foundation for what the girls will turn out to be as they grow up—as you can see, a bit eccentric and a few other things. Lol. I'm a day late with the update because I wanted to move the chapter days to Fridays. :) Curious: Do you think I should raise the story to M, or perhaps just give warnings before certain chapters?

Getting extra reviews would make my life! Ask general questions if you want as well. :)


	8. Occlumency

I would be lying if I said I was excited for back-to-school shopping at Diagon Alley. As Third Years, our reunions and choices before classes resumed would set the foundation for the entire year of social standing. There was also the pressure of choosing the electives you wanted, or the easiest, or the ones your friends were interested in. People also had a general understanding of one another—cordial introductions and parents choosing friends were far behind us. There was also the matter of how to act around friends you hadn't seen, where to go, whom to talk with. Even if all these things balanced in my favor, my meeting with Professor Snape was the following day, hovering over my thoughts like a broken record.

Lacey and I had psychologically analyzed each facet of available electives. They needed to be enjoyable, simple yet engaging, and include students and teachers that we liked. Lacey and I had no lives.

Care of Magical Creatures was an automatic yes. We both revered animals; I loved Boomerang, my simpleton owl. And these were _magical_ creatures. Who could go wrong? There would be no white collar work involved, it was exciting, Ethan would undoubtedly do it, and we might get a few pets in the process. Hagrid apparently had his downfalls: but the mortality of Draco Malfoy's arm only solidified the flexibility the class held. Besides, our experience with Skrewts had led us to a magic carpet ride on Buckbeak.

Arithmacy: My father said that I would regret such a complicated course. This would normally propel me to take it, but Mum said she switched after one year of it because it was too advanced. Lacey explained that it was like basic math we learned in our informal education before Hogwarts with the awful twist of letters and Latin. No, thank you.

Ancient Runes: Learning another language, such as Spanish, French, or Italian would be fascinating. But when this language involves symbols and erudite riddles, it does not fit the criteria for easy nor engaging.

Muggle Studies: Lacey and I contemplated this with each other, but Father would never allow it. Lacey said her mum took it, anyway, and that Burbage just discussed crude inventions and the barbaric history of the Muggles. How was Ethan like any of them?

Divination: Against my better judgment, Lacey said that everyone is doing it and it would be the easiest grading in the world. We would get to use various means of predicting the future, which sounds fascinating, except I doubted Trelawney was neither sane nor credible. It would be an interesting laugh at least.

There were also extracurriculars to think about. Lacey and I were still set on Frog Choir, no matter the social implications. There was also a new addition added to the list: Muggle music. I would have to breach the subject with Ethan.

Daphne gave me her Care of Magical Creatures monster book because she was dropping the class. It was a bit testy and worn, but it was tamer than buying a new one. I was ecstatic when Mum Floo'ed with us to Diagon Alley without Father; she was more lax and agreeable. Perhaps she would only give a disapproving glance to Ethan, instead of permanent ostracism.

Even if Daphne had found her friends, Mum would have forced her to stay with us. As we were buying an arm load of textbooks, I waved to Fay. Her parents were kind but conservative Purebloods who kept to themselves. She snuck a glance at Astrix and I hoped she would find a way to get rid of her harking parents.

"Astoria, we don't have time to visit," snapped Daphne as I approached Fay. I turned to her, harboring a harsh look, when I saw the reasoning behind her rudeness. Blaise had entered the store. He appeared forlorn, not among his usual crowd.

Daphne pulled me behind a bookshelf. I peeped my head around. "Does Mum know?" I whispered.

"Yes. No. Sort of. Like you, I guess. She knows we had a falling-out but not what about. She's been bugging me to tell her for ages." Daphne crossed her arms. "Look at the bloody traitor! She's _talking_ to him!"

"So? Just because you're not together doesn't mean he's evil or should be ignored."

Daphne gave me a dark look, and I could suddenly see a resemblance in the way our eyeliner smudged to give a haughty look. "Don't talk, Astoria. You know _nothing_."

I sighed, not even feeling like a betrayer when I wished I could talk to Blaise, but he had already gone.

"Mum, now that I have my textbooks, can I _please_ meet up with Tracey?"

Mum shook her head. "I told you, this is the first I've gotten to spend time with both my girls this summer. I'm not budging. You'll see your friends plenty when school starts up."

Daphne's eyes brimmed with crocodile tears. "But I just saw Blaise and it's really upsetting to me. Tracey makes me feel better and I really need her right now."

My mum was conflicted between emotions and her decisions. "Fine, Daphne. I see where your priorities lie. I know there's no stopping either you or your father."

Daphne exclaimed her exaggerated thanks and bolted, leaving Mum with the books. She hefted them under a lightweight spell. "I like that Tracey girl better than Pansy, anyhow."

"Pansy's been busy with Draco. She's sort of ditched Daphne in the process, I think."

"Well, they can have each other," Mum said. "I'd rather my daughter grow up to be a halfway decent person. So, Astoria, how are your friends-?"

I gasped. "That's Ethan over there, Mum! That must be his brother with him. See, with the blue jeans?" Ethan was on an adjacent side of the alley, standing in line with his brother for butterbeer. When he caught wind of my voice, he turned around and waved. He gestured to his brother and must have introduced me.

Mum knew that I had waited all summer to see Ethan. "Go ahead, Astoria. Why don't we meet at Madame Malkin's in an hour?"

"Are you sure, Mum?" I asked. She nodded. "Do you want to meet him?" She shook her head this time. I presumed it was because of her (albeit less radicalization than Father) views that she did not want to taint her image of a clean slate Muggleborn with an actual person. An actual person has flaws, and my mum did not want to let her personal opinions slip in.

"Have fun, and be on time." She smiled, but it was forced. I was almost happy she decided not to join us, however, when I caught a glimpse of Ethan's brother Mark. Ooh boy, was I in for more than one treat at The Three Broomsticks.

Mark was the Antichrist of Muggleborns. He was what the Death Eaters tortured Muggles for. He was what made Purebloods marry their daughters off to members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

Mark was not tall, but his slimness accounted for litheness. He hitched his fingers around loopholes of what Ethan calls "stone-wash jeans" that he wore on weekends at Hogwarts. His shirt was tucked in like a picture from the '80's, and wore one of those black leather jackets with red shoulder pads. Mark also wore a thin layer of coal on his lower eyelids. He had hazel eyes and tan skin. His hair was a separate entity and easily reached his shoulders. However, it was shampooed and much more luscious than Professor Snape's. Based on sneaking forbidden pictures into childhood sleepovers, I suspected that most Muggles don't look like this.

"I told you about Mark, didn't I, Stor?"

"Yeah," I said, worried Ethan could see through me. Mark shook my hand like a gentleman. "You're the one who plays electric guitar."

"And you play piano. Ethan's told me all about his musical-prodigy witch friend."

Ethan pointed to himself. "And me, what can I do? Well, when I was seven, I played the triangle pretty well. Got a standing ovation at an elementary school concert, I did."

Mark laughed. "Whatever makes you feel better."

A hostess motioned us to a table. They must have been short-staffed or busy because of the school rush. She said we would have to order to the bar, so Mark sent Ethan up, claiming we were _his_ guests.

I followed the cracks in the finished table with my fingernails. What was I supposed to say after being left alone with this Dream Muggle? Garbled phrases popped into my mind, but I rejected all of them.

"Are you considering music as a serious career?" asked Mark.

I couldn't work my mouth well. "Well, I'm still young, so I'm not, like, sure."

Mark nodded in understanding. "You must be expected to do something in magic, anyway." A few Purebloods sauntered past and gawked at Mark, but he seemed acclimated to this from his Bohemian Muggle standards.

"I don't even know what I could do with magic skills, let alone music."

Mark laughed. "Neither do I…. You sing too, right? Aren't you in Toad Choir or something?"

"Frog Choir," I blushed. "And yes. I love singing."

"Then you should keep at it. Your best bet is to be professionally trained. Is that possible in your world?"

I shrugged. "Before Hogwarts, some little kids take dance or voice. But other than that, I don't think so."

"You should find out how to. Your best bet to know if this is something you're serious about pursuing is to become educated about it. If you're trained, you can sing just about anything and it'll come easy to you. I'll let you in on a secret: Before I became a rocker, I was trained as a tenor in _opera_. Excuse me if I sound like an over-involved parent right now."

"No, go on."

Mark smiled as if he knew this would be my answer. "You've gotta grow a little before music seeps into your bones and you know you want it more than anything. Not this way—" he stretched his hand out to demonstrate height—"or this—" he showed a great width while cracking himself up—"but in here." He patted his chest. "You've gotta live so you can feel it. If you've ever performed, you know it's the greatest feeling in the world. I can't really give it justice, but it's like time doesn't exist, and you become the song. Then people can finally see who you are, without you having to tell them."

I glanced over to see someone stumbling. I rushed to assist Ethan, who was wobbling over as he balanced five butterbeers. A few bubbled over as we set them down onto the table. Ethan hugged three and gave the remainders to me and Mark.

I licked thoughtfully at the froth. "What electives are you taking, Ethan?"

"Care of Magical Creatures for sure, but I'm stuck between Arithmacy and Ancient Runes. You'd think there'd be a way to take them all, what with it being a Wizarding school."

"You've got to take Divination. That's what Lacey and I are doing along with Care of Magical Creatures."

"But I want to take Arithmacy and learn a language."

"You do realize what Arithmacy is?" I asked him.

Mark raised his hand. "I have no damn clue."

"It's hard, abstract _math._ "

"I know," replied Ethan, bubbles sticking to his upper lip.

"Are you mad?" barked Mark over the noise. "If I had a choice whether or not to suffer through maths, I would've taken it."

Maths plural seemed like a terrifying prospect, and I didn't even know what it was. "But Ethan is the one person on earth who loves math."

"Yes," said Ethan. "Do you have a problem?"

"Yes. I wanted you to be in both my electives. Divination would be so much fun to laugh at with you."

"A room full of a prophetic woman and giggles from skeptics like you and Lacey? I'll pass."

Mark whistled. "Damn, I didn't know my brother has a bitch side."

"I didn't know he was sexist either," I deadpanned.

Ethan sighed. "Sorry, Stor. Don't be so upset. We literally have every other class together. _And_ you're taking Muggle Music with me on Friday nights."

I crossed my arms. "Maybe I won't now. Maybe I have plans on Fridays."

Ethan raised his eyebrow incredulously.

Mark leaned in. "You've _got_ to take the course, Astoria. It will be the best thing that's ever happened to you. Just wait until the next full moon to do your curse on Ethan."

"Thanks for the solution, Mark. What could I do without you?"

"Math, maybe," mumbled Ethan.

I passed him a haughty look. "Maybe I won't help you on written assignments anymore, if _that's_ how you feel."

"Lacey and I should have a bet to see how long we can go without copying!" Ethan exclaimed.

I laughed. "You'll each last two days before you start failing classes."

"I still will try. Let her know when you see her." I doused my butterbeer. "Tell her we're betting fifty Galleons."

"You have to bet something besides money," said Mark. "Like if you lose, Ethan, you have to strip and jump into a lake."

"Black Lake!" I shouted. Even though it was crowded, I received a few errant stares.

"I'm not doing that." Patches of red bloomed across Ethan's face.

"And if Lacey loses, she has to serenade the school from the Astronomy Tower. You know, with one of those projecting spells? You can both make an Unbreakable Vow when school starts."

Mark told Ethan to get him a refill and his eyes were laughing as he walked away. "Even I can tell what the consequence of breaking that is, but Ethan doesn't, does he?"

I shook my head. "And I'm willing to bet Lacey doesn't either." Pluses of being an educated Pureblood.

"Well," I said when Ethan returned, "I better get going. Mum always likes me to be early, and I told her I'd be back within the hour."

"But we just started talking!"

"Let her go, bro," said Mark. "If she comes back to you, she was always yours."

Ethan sneered, the expression unbecoming on his face. He had been acting completely different from what I was used to. "Shut up. See you, Stor." His face became soft again. I shook Mark's hand once more and Ethan patted me on the back in an awkward fashion before I left.

* * *

I shivered, hovering over my father's desk. I did not bother to sit. Professor Snape turned his analytical, lidded eyes towards my person, regarding me. An awkward silence ensued, so I took on the business tone my parents use.

"We might as well get to it."

He nodded and faced me. Regrettably, I pictured how the man would appear without the layers of hair shielding his face. Attempting to calm my raging thoughts was impossible, and plenty of personal feelings I was afraid he might see bubbled to my consciousness. Would he give me the defenses to stop him, or did he want to see what he would have to work with first? It seemed it would be the latter.

I gripped the desk until my knuckles where a ghastly white. It was a struggle to hold my body up as Snape snooped inside its very being. To my abject relief, he skimmed over the dark recesses, the hatred and secret thoughts about others I had little control over. Instead, he claimed the boring parts of my mind—the endless days of sedentariness, loneliness, and the occasional sadness. There were several snippets of laughter, and I was witness to viewing myself objectively. He grasped at a few memories I was proud of, the ones when I didn't walk to classes alone and had people to share inside jokes with. I almost forgot where I was when I saw myself flying on Buckbeak, and I was almost thankful at being able to touch these memories as if they were physical matter. But then Snape snatched at when I heard the news about my parents and was alone in the Room of Requirement.

There was a clatter.

I was on my knees and staring at the floor, my knobby limbs trembling as they tried to support the fall that seemed out of my control. Father's papers littered the floor along with a Ministry award he had received.

Professor Snape made no move to retrieve the papers or help me up. When I regained my balance, I stood. To my chagrin, tears bloomed in the corners of my eyes. I swallowed them and gnawed on my fingernails, something I had never done.

"Just as I thought," he said. "You are a mundane girl with an even more ordinary mind."

My pride cowered, but I was mostly relieved. It would be worse to be criticized for the serpentine inside my thoughts than the uninteresting nature of my mind. Snape did not even bother questioning my business of flying on Buckbeak or being in the Room of Requirement. Yet still I clenched my fists in anger. My father's comrade was no better than my father; not that I expected a difference in character.

"For the remainder of our meeting, I would like you to recount a few facts about certain people, Miss Greengrass. I will just ask you to tell me about them." I nodded. "Well, aren't you going to offer me a seat?"

I ignored my inner eye-rolling and asked him to take a seat on the other side of the desk. I was not sure if sitting or standing was more awkward. What was the purpose of this exercise, anyway?

"First tell me about Draco Malfoy. Does he display the Slytherin House characteristics of cunning and ambition?"

I shrugged. "I mean, I guess. It depends. You should ask Daphne when she gets home. She actually knows him."

"Exactly," he replied. "Your sister is biased. You, on the other hand, aren't. So tell me, in the experiences you've conversed with him, or witnessed him in action, have you seen him pertain to those descriptions?"

I pictured Draco standing up to Hagrid over a few measly Galleons. His parents must have influenced his income if he was willing to do that. "Well, I s'pose he's cunning in the sense that he'd be willing to do quite anything for his ambitions. But that doesn't mean certain things are worth being cunning and ambitious for."

"How do your sister's friends view him?"

"Professor, what-?"

"I asked you a question, Greengrass."

I thought for a moment, remembering a few conversations Pansy and Daphne had comparing their personal opinions on Draco's attractiveness. Both had been positive, of course. But they never mentioned his character. "Um, they don't really talk about serious matters." I blushed when Snape comprehended my comment.

"If there is one subject more strange than children, it is adolescent girls," he mumbled. How does he treat Crabbe and Goyle, then?"

"He's their leader and they listen, so not very well."

"Does he display leadership?"

"I think he's all right when leadership means orders. He wouldn't be a great leader, though. Draco is pretty mean."

Snape glared at me. "Did I ask for your opinion?"

I shook my head.

"Crabbe and Goyle, then? Are they adept followers?"

"Blind followers, more like, but yes." I prepared for a curse when I realized I had revealed my opinion again, but Snape did not comment.

"Do you follow Quidditch?"

I bit my lip, fighting back a droll twitch of laughter. "Not really."

Snape sighed. "Do you know any of the upperclassmen?"

"It depends."

"Do you know Marcus Flint? He seems … popular."

"Oh, I know who that is!" I was almost confused for a moment because the context of our discussion was reminiscent of mine and Lacey's. "I've never spoken to him, though." Well, except for the time I tripped on the stairwell and he laughed, making a comment about First Years when I was in Second. But I didn't think that counted.

"Interesting, except not. Well, I suppose Flint isn't of outmost priority in current matters. What about Theodore Nott? He is perceived as a loner, is he not?"

"I guess, but he has people he talks to. He reads a lot of strange books. Nott tells a lot of things in them to people who don't really care."

"Does Theodore respect members of his House? Does his strangeness borderline insanity?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I have no idea. He is a bit strange, though."

"I need details, Greengrass."

"He just _is_. I dunno, he's not too bad…."

Snape glowered at me. "Never go back on your word. It is even worse than having an opinion." He sat back, but still he was stiff. "Now, what of Potter?" He seemed the least enthusiastic for this question, and this is when I suspected someone else had asked him to do this ridiculous interview. "Tell me … anything at all."

"Again, I've never really spoken with Harry Potter. He seems nice enough, but … Is this an opinion? He always gets special privileges."

"Thatis the _opposite_ of an opinion, Greengrass. _Stel_ lar job. Well, if that is all you know…." Sigh; grimace. "Have you even heard of Neville Longbottom?"

Of course I had _heard_ of Neville, but it was not because of his social reputation in school. Mum used to discuss his parents often and how she pitied Neville having to go through a childhood without them. Father never disagreed, but he would always counteract with the fact Potter had to deal with the same thing, and no one ever made such a ruckus about that. Because of this, I had been steeled to catch a glimpse of the eminent boy—but it seemed his fame only extended to his name.

"Yeah, poor Neville's a bit awkward." I tested the waters. "He seems scared of you, I think."

Snape did not smile, but he didn't comment on another disparaging bias either. "Do you think he is a capable wizard?"

I shrugged. "My sister just said that the only thing he inherited from his parents was a green thumb."

"I asked you, Greengrass, not your airheaded sister."

His insult was more entertaining than his complement. "I don't know anything about Neville, Professor." _And you asked for no opinions._

"Lastly," he crossed out something, "Niles Handley. Surely you know something about him."

A thousand jumbled phrases and names sprung to mind, and I was glad Snape was not currently reading it. "What about Niles?"

"How does _he_ display the characteristics of Slytherin House?"

"Niles gives out all the bad ones. He's cunning, but evil and manipulative. Niles wants what Niles wants. He's ambitious to a point, though. It isn't about what's good for him, it's just _about_ him."

Snape pushed the remaining papers off the table, his wand glowing with desired use. "Did I _ask_ for your opinion, Greengrass!"

My shoulders caved in and I started before cowering. "No, Professor. Sorry."

Snape struggled letting the tension out of his shoulders and he regarded me for a final question. I had the impression that this was not on the list. "You must have something to say about Travers. The _Muggleborn_ i _s_ your friend."

The thought of Ethan brought forth a deluge of needed, uplifting thoughts. "Ethan is brilliant. He's smart, but not like a Ravenclaw. He understands a lot about Hogwarts and the whole world. He's also funny and has a great taste in music."

Snape looked at me like he tasted something bitter in his mouth. I blushed, realizing I might have come across too enthusiastic and he might view me as a prototype of Pansy. "You do realize that _every word_ you just said is an opinion. How does Ethan get by as a member of the Slytherin House? Being a Muggleborn…."

"After that day he Transfigured the Gryffindors in First Year, he hasn't been bullied. Well, Niles has made a few comments, but I think it's because Ethan chose me and Lacey over him." I hurried on. "But Ethan's definitely an important member. He gets rid of some of the stereotypes of our House."

"I see. Well, Greengrass, we will resume these conversations each time we have a meeting. It is important you converse with, or at the very least, _observe_ the students aforementioned. Your information is vital because you are a bit removed from the scene."

"What is this used for?" I asked.

"Your personal preferences and pestering questions are irrelevant to the Death Eaters, Greengrass. You should learn now that it is your best interest to not eliminate entrance to your mind, but to obliterate thoughts against Dark Wizards altogether. I refer to the entirety of this meeting.

"You will prove of no use to the Death Eaters or any other power, but your information is vital to me. Do what you have been, Greengrass. Blend in. Never dare to have an opinion. Slytherins have not just outward cunning, but inner as well." He turned away so his hair covered his expression like a shroud. "The means of the heart and mind are separate components. Do you understand?"

"No," I answered honestly. "How can I protect my mind from my father—"

"Did you not hear what I just said, foolish girl?! Your father doesn't have time to bother to invade your mind, so he has left the matter to me. Neither do I, but I do have time to obtain information. As I said, you will regularly inform me of the students I asked you about, with the exception of that lout Travers."

I was enraged at him and how he planned to use me for his scheming, but at least Ethan would be safe. For what could I say to my own teacher? So as he wished, I remained quiet.

"Do you have your Third Year Potions book?" asked Snape.

It took me a moment to answer. "Yes … why?"

"I suggest you peruse the first chapter before classes resume. It is not your expertise, so it would be in your best interest to gain a grasp of it before you plunge into something … foreign to you."

I swore I could see red spots. "Of course, Professor Snape. See you at school." He was my teacher again, and I would have to obey his whims. This does not go to say that I had respect for Potions. Professor Snape nodded to me without a response, closing his cape around his hands as he slipped through the door. I watched through the crack as he murmured a few words to Father, whom nodded. He silently strode through the front door and vanished in an Apparating blur.

"Astoria, come out from there," said Mum. I came out and watched my father expect me to face them with vulnerability.

"What did he say?" I asked him.

"Was this meeting for nothing?" he asked rhetorically. "You ought to learn to mind your own business."

"Watch the way you talk to our daughter!" my mother responded shrilly.

Father sighed, lines in his forehead I had never noticed before becoming prominent. "I'm sorry for my tone, Astoria. It comes from a good place. You'll be safer if you stay out of things."

Mum managed to nod and shake her head at the same time. "I think she meant to ask how he said things went."

Father's eyes widened in understanding. "Well, in that case, he said you're a wonderful prospect, Astoria. You have some stubbornness to work on, but Severus claims you're a fast learner." Father headed inside his office, and it surprised me when he did not comment on the mess. Perhaps he understood the effects of Legimency.

"Was he kind to you, Astoria?" Mum asked in a low voice.

I hesitated for a moment. Although I had nearly been brought to tears, Snape was not blatantly cruel. He had skirted over my embarrassing memories. He may have insulted me, but he never once insulted the darkness I was composed of.

"No, just a bit nerve-wracking."

"Promise you'll let me know if he's bothered you." I nodded, but was immersed in deeper thoughts. In my childhood years at Hogwarts, I had missed out on any adult relationships I could have with my parents, or at least Mum and my other relatives. It left even the best of us estranged until the summer months. Most of the Slytherins in my year cherished the independence they gained without their parents harking on them, and I had to agree a little. There was no nagging or parental expectations at Hogwarts; no Fathers to disregard me as an individual. But there were also no Mums: no one you can completely trust with experience and guidance. Some students looked to our professors, but I did not specifically connect with any of them.

"I'm very proud of you, Astoria. You've grown up so much in the past two years. I miss you and Daphne. If you ever need me, I'll come straight up."

I pictured my mum trudging into Hogwarts and waving to me in front of my entire House. "It's all right." She appeared a bit downtrodden. "But I'll remember just in case."

Father came out of his office then. "Astoria, next time remember to clean up before you leave. Those papers are important."

I knew it.

Boomerang suddenly flew into the house, saving me from another reprimanding. I charged up to my room, ignoring my father's calls after me.

 ** _Stor,_**

 ** _That's an awesome idea. When Ethan loses, we can invite everyone to come see him skinny dip into the lake. We can do the vow after the feast. ;)_**

 ** _-Lace_**

I suddenly couldn't wait any longer for school to start.

* * *

 **A/N:** As you probably have noticed, I raised the story rating to an M. This chapter was pretty tame, but I don't want to take any chances in the future. You can probably expect more dark themes than language, so don't let it deter you. **I'd love to get more reviews!** Please take some time to comment if you can. If you're a guest or don't have an account, I suggest you get one because then I can respond to your reviews in a message and it is also easier to keep track of stories being updated. :)

 ***Spoiler alert (sort of)*:** I received a great question from a reviewer and want to address this to all of my readers. I realize this story is slow-moving with anything involving Draco and Astoria. I don't want to give away future developments, but I will say that this story is canon compliant. However, I want to make this as realistic as possible (as in not instalove), so even if there isn't much interaction, I try to at least mention him in each chapter. As soon as Third Year starts, I promise you'll get to see him more as the characters develop and the plot thickens.

 **Happy Friday!**


	9. A Series of Unfortunate Events

**A/N:** All credit goes to Lemony Snicket for this chapter title and all songwriters in the music mentioned.

* * *

We scattered the Floo powder and stepped inside the fireplace. Ashes clung to my black flats and soon we were whizzed away by copper fire.

Father decided not to join us again because he was on business, so Daphne, Mum, and I emerged from the fireplace into King's Cross Station. I noticed immediately that everything had gotten smaller and I did not feel so minute anymore. Daphne and I held tight to our bottomless suitcases, sagging despite the weightlessness charms. Boomerang hooted from my shoulder, where he perched (he no longer tolerated cages). Daphne stiffened as Pansy sauntered past, one arm latched onto Draco's. For once she did not seem itching to depart from our presence.

Mum was acting strange herself. She had been disquieted the entire day but would not convey her reasons. She looked us squarely in the eyes.

"Whatever happens this year, I want you girls to ignore it. Don't share your opinions and don't take sides. No matter how trustworthy someone seems, you never know how information can get around. Even if this person is your best friend, always assume the worst. Don't even share your thoughts with a teacher." She looked at me as if Snape was an exception but kept silent because Daphne knew nothing about that. Mum lowered her voice. "I can't tell you more, but please try to understand that whatever you might say will have consequences on your father." Seeing my skeptical expression, she blathered on. "We could lose everything."

I wanted to ask her to define "everything," but Ethan kept waving me down from the train and I didn't want to spend another moment in a serious conversation. Daphne and I promised Mum we would be good puppets and climbed aboard the train. I collided with fellow students and soon lost Daphne in the throng of people. My suitcase got lodged in a corner, allowing me to spy on the goings-on in the Slytherin section of the train.

Pansy and Draco occupied their own compartment with Crabbe and Goyle. How awkward for them. Pansy drawled on about some drama or other, and I caught my sister's name in several places. Draco nodded in the correct places but seemed more immersed in the _Prophet_ than in Pansy's harangue. He pointed out something to Crabbe, who grunted. When I finally prodded my suitcase from the corner, Goyle had spotted me through the narrow window. He blushed and I internally gagged, then trudged away in embarrassment when Draco watched the interaction. Not only would he soon discover Goyle's unrequited infatuation with me, but the fact that I had shimmied to "Dancing Queen" in my skivvies.

Daphne and Tracey were situated in a compartment diagonal to the one I had passed. They were discussing something with Millicent Bulstrode, who seemed wary of their attention but enthusiastic to receive any. Tracey appeared comfortable but Daphne would never let on that she was enjoying herself with anyone below her standards.

I continued on but got intercepted by the food cart and had to buy some chocolate frogs. I looked around for Lacey and Ethan but neither was in the Slytherin section. I sighed in agitation while chocolate melted on my tongue, leaning against an abandoned compartment.

A door slid open and then I was falling. My suitcase and I were dragged into the compartment. Boomerang hooted, flying about the compartment. I turned around, expecting to be gagged and bound by some Death Eater.

It was just Blaise.

"Sorry about that, Astoria. I didn't want anyone finding out we were meeting. How are you?"

I sat up, smoothing out my wrinkled clothes and moving over to sit. "I'm good, you? What is this about?"

"Do you know what's going on with your sister?"

"No, I'm just as lost as you are."

"Would you tell me even if you-?" Blaise started.

"Yes," I answered without hesitating but still not completely sure. "Why would she be mad at Pansy and Draco, though? What happened in that room?"

"You can't tell anyone, all right?"

"I won't."

Blaise took a deep breath. "It was Draco's idea to play a drinking game, but it was _Pansy's_ idea for it to be vodka instead of low-dose firewhisky. It's like truth or dare with a catch.

"If you choose truth, you take Veritaserum. You can also choose to drink it off. With a dare, you can either take it, or drink it off. The third option is to duel your questioner. If the questioner doesn't accept the duel, both of you've gotta drink. If they do agree, then the duel goes until you're either … violently defeated or surrender. Surrendering isn't a good option 'cause it will cause you to lose the game."

"So Daphne was just unlucky?"

"I s'pose," replied Blaise. "It was weird, though. Pansy kept asking Daphne these weird questions about magic and goaded her by saying she was too much of a coward to duel. Daphne just kept drinking…. I better not say any more. You're—"

"Come on, Blaise. You can't just stop telling me now."

Blaise sighed. "But I don't want you to hate me like she does. I really like you, Astoria. You're one of the few people in this House who's trustworthy and actually likeable."

I smiled. "I promise I won't hate you."

Blaise grinned back painfully. "Well, Daphne and I ended up dueling. Pansy had asked her another question, so I stepped in so Daphne wouldn't have to drink anymore. She'd already thrown up two times. I went real easy on her, Astoria, I promise. I even told her to surrender, that it was all right. But she refused. It wasn't just stubbornness. It seemed like she was trying to prove something to Pansy.

"The duel was a stalemate, but it really knocked the wind out of her. I told Pansy to go get an antidote when your sister started to look like she was about to … to faint." Blaise was sweating from his forehead. "I tried to help her, but she … she punched me square in the nose. Didn't do much, but it still shocked me. Tracey took her to the bathroom, then. That's when I went and got you.

"I get why your sister was angry, but I'd have thought she would've forgiven me by now. I sent her an owl every day with flowers and little trinkets…. I even tried finding her at Diagon Alley and finding out when she hung out with Tracey, but Trace wouldn't tell me. A bit stalker-ish, I know. But Merlin, Astoria. I think I'm in love with her."

I couldn't see why, but I suppose that was the point. I also respected Blaise, and therefore respected his opinions. Despite what he had told me, I was not surprised to hear it—it was almost as if I had heard it before.

"I don't see why she'd blame you." Blaise's eyes blurred with tears. "I'll find out for you," I suddenly said. If not for my sister, I would do it for Blaise. "I'm sorry this happened. We can still be friends, no matter what Daphne thinks of you. Please don't hate yourself, Blaise."

He forced a smile and gave me a hug. I felt a familiarity being held by someone strong. It was pathetic, but I figured I looked up to Blaise as a bloke who set a stellar example while my father did not.

He thanked me and opened the compartment door. "Have you happened to see my mates?" I asked Blaise.

"Yeah, I think I saw them in the Hufflepuff section … dunno what they've gotten themselves into there."

I laughed and made my way over to the other side of the train. I appreciated how smart Lacey and Ethan were when I heard music blaring from several speakers. I knocked on their compartment and in several seconds it was opened. Boomerang flew inside, startling two Hufflepuffs in Fifth Year. Ethan suffocated me in a hug and Lacey whooped, jumping onto his back. We laughed when my suitcase got stuck in the door and we had to pry it inside, causing us to fall on top of one another. They didn't bother asking me what took me so long to find them, but instead stumbled over each other as they filled me in on the details of their lives. The Hufflepuffs stared at us in wonder, probably wondering how we were Slytherins. Boomerang hooted and pecked his beak against the window glass. After several tries, Ethan managed to roll up his sleeves and pry it open. Boomerang shot out and flew next to the train, keeping up in stride. The three of us stuck our heads out the window, letting the zephyr muss up our hair. Music continued to blare from the speakers, stirring my soul around. I struggled to remember a time when I was more content.

The two Hufflepuffs introduced themselves as Ernie Macmillian and Hannah Abbot. They were both in my sister's year, but she had failed to ever mention either of them.

Ernie was more outspoken than Hannah. "You can smoke or haze passing Muggles for all I care, as long as you don't tell Zach Smith we're in here."

"They've had a row," explained Hannah.

"And _you've_ chosen _me!_ "

"If choosing you means coming after you threatened to hex me."

I stuck another chocolate frog into my mouth. "You never got to tell me about Italy, Ethan."

Ethan's eyebrows wiggled in excitement. "It was epic. We're Italian Catholics, so of course we _had_ to visit St. John Lateran's. The Vatican is actually the smallest country in the world, if Hogwarts doesn't count. We also saw the Coliseum, where Muggles fought each other to the death. The Bridge of Sighs in Venice was probably my favorite place. We had tons of pasta, of course." He suddenly turned over, lying on the seat. Ethan clutched his stomach and groaned. When he recovered from Lacey giving him "real stomach pain," he asked if she was taking Muggle Music with us.

"I want to, but my parents are forcing me to try out for Quidditch. If I make the team, I doubt I'll have time for both."

"Then I'll hit you on the head before tryouts," I suggested.

Lacey shook her head. "My whole family played. It's a tradition, so if I don't make it, they'll curse me or something."

"Speaking of," smirked Ethan, "we should do the vow after dinner. Where do you think's a good place for it?"

" _We_ know a place," I said, glancing at Lacey as we shared a smirk.

Ernie sidled over to us. "Don't mean to eavesdrop, but I'd like to give you three amigos some information. Dolores Umbridge has come to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. She's a twat from the Ministry and is super strict. She plans to reinforce some rules. So just be careful if you're sneaking out after hours or anything."

"My father works with her," I blurted. "He hates her." Snape would not be proud of my influx of inside information, so I instantly blushed.

"No one can replace Remus!" exclaimed Hannah.

"On a first-name basis, are we?" said Ethan.

Ernie scrunched his face. "She's in love with him."

"He's not bad," I defended her.

Ethan was appalled. "Not _bad!_ He's only a thousand years older than you!"

I shrugged.

"You forgot the werewolf part," added Lacey. "Never forget the werewolf part."

* * *

The start-of-term feast whizzed by in a blur. I could not stop gawking in amazement at the petrified First Years and how school was starting to come full circle for the rest of us. As usual, the feast was spectacular, but our minds were on other things: namely, the Unbreakable Vow Ethan and Lacey would make. They were still unsuspecting—I almost felt guilty, but not enough to actually tell them.

Dumbledore's speech was different this year: he was intense and had more than senseless school procedure to inform us about. An awkward hush filled the room when he referenced Cedric, but I was amazed at how quickly life recovered from the mention of death. Professor Umbridge was introduced—she prepared to say something herself—but already students were complaining about her "reinforced rules." If only the Gryffindors and Slytherins could find common ground on this matter and revolt.

We led ourselves into the common room, where we immediately sought to be excused. The tension was palpitating and I suspected the Prefects would not allow us to go out the first night back at school, but they were nowhere to be seen.

"What happens if you break an Unbreakable Vow?" Ethan asked.

I froze, but Lacey spoke first. "I asked my mum when I was young, but she said she'd just tell me when I was older."

"Well, if that isn't a reason to do it!"

"You can't tell anyone about the room," I informed Ethan as we ascended to the seventh floor. "Flitwick made me promise personally."

"Even Frog Choir practice is moving to the Great Hall this year," said Lacey. "After all the weird stuff happening, I can't really blame them for not trusting us."

We reached the door and prepared to pace. "Keep wa—" I started to say, but then two Slytherin students with Prefect badges strolled into the vicinity.

"What are you three _doing?_ " drawled Draco Malfoy, immediately approaching Ethan. Ethan had backed himself against the wall when Draco confronted him.

"Taking a walk," I blurted. "It's not after hours." As I said this, Draco's head snapped around, and I regretted saving Ethan's Muggle-born arse.

"Who gave you permission to 'take a walk'?" asked Pansy, stepping towards me.

"There was no one in the common room to _give_ permission," Lacey bit back.

"Then you shouldn't have _gone._ Pull something like this again and we'll deduct points."

I threw my hands up in the air, annoyance for Pansy boiling through my veins. "We're in your House, genius!"

Draco turned towards Pansy, still keeping one eye on Ethan (who happened to be sweating bullets). "Who cares about taking a walk, Pansy? We should deduct points for them hanging around with this scum of the earth." Ethan was assumed. He turned towards me. "You really should know better, what's-your-face Greengrass. You _are_ a member of the Twenty-Eight. You wouldn't want your father finding out about this, would you?"

"He already knows." This was half-true, as the last time I mentioned Ethan to my father was two years ago.

Draco sneered. "If he allows it, then _shame on him_." He pressed his wand against Ethan's throat and scoffed after replacing it in his pocket. "Look at the Mudblood squirm." Pansy laughed with him and applauded. Lacey rushed towards Ethan when Draco finished goading him, but I stood there, stock-still and unable to utter a word. The world was upside down and I was seeing everything in red.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Astoria." Draco had somehow mellowed now, but there was a dark intensity about him. "Everyone is watching nowadays." With that, Pansy locked arms with him and they sauntered away.

We waited in silence until they disappeared down the hallway. It was so quiet that you could hear a wand drop. I avoided Ethan's eyes and watched Lacey's feet as she paced in front of the Room of Requirement. Because the only necessity we needed was privacy, we stepped inside a dimmed room with a single paned window. Moonlight filtered through the thick glass and illuminated the wooden floors. Lacey and Ethan stood across from one another and I got out my wand. I had done plenty of research since we had come up with the idea and found that making the vow only involved an amateur binding spell.

"Lock hands," I whispered. After Lacey and Ethan followed my directions, I held my wand over their interlocked arms.

"Will you, Lacey Blackwell, sing in front of the whole school and pay Ethan fifty Galleons if you copy homework?"

"I will."

"And will you, Ethan Travers, skinny dip into Black Lake and pay Lacey fifty Galleons if you copy homework?"

"Well, when you put it like that-"

"Ethan!" Lacey barked.

A serious look came over Ethan's face. "I will."

I sealed the vow and the lights went out.

* * *

Breakfast was scarfed down the following morning on account of the suspense of our first Care of Magical Creatures class. It was wonderful to take advantage of the mellow, morning sun. We headed out to the grounds along with every Slytherin and Gryffindor in our year. Despite the heeded warnings of Draco Malfoy's experiences, the Slytherins would rather take an easy elective than bother with dignity no one really cared about.

I snuck a glance at Ethan, recalling the encounter seared into my mind from the night before. He seemed unbothered and carefree as we approached Hagrid's hut, but there were dark circles under his eyes as if he had been contemplating something while he was supposed to be sleeping. Disgust with myself welled into my stomach as I remembered how pathetically I had reacted. Even worse was the threat Draco had made against my father. Not that I particularly cared for his wellbeing, but our entire family's reputation could be compromised. Lacey commented on my paleness but I just shrugged her aside. Surprisingly, I wished Draco had found out about my singing and Goyle's infatuation instead.

Our brand-new shoes sunk into the dampened grounds as we stood outside Hagrid's hut. He ambled outside and began explaining his course to us promptly. Ethan craned his head to see behind Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest, where our first lesson was apparently waiting. I couldn't pay attention and did not catch the warnings of whatever creature we were dealing with.

Our expectations of the class were learned to be anticlimactic. We were each assigned a partner and a flobberworm. Ethan decided to forgo negotiating with Hagrid and tolerated working with Olivia, who is not all that bad.

"How do I do this?" I asked Lacey, moving around a piece of lettuce over the flobberworm.

"Hagrid _just_ told us that they have mouths at both ends."

"That doesn't mean I know where to shove it!"

Astrix, the Gryffindor that Fay was enamored with, turned towards my shrieking voice. "Still talking about flobberworms, are we?"

"I didn't ask for your input, Astrix!"

Lacey tore the lettuce from my hand. "Let me do this," she grumbled, shoving her hand into the flobberworm's rear end that it managed to eat from. Mucus dribbled down her fingers and I gagged. Lacey was only slightly peeved and gave a small laugh. "Its teeth tickle." I shivered.

Meanwhile, Ethan and Olivia appeared to be thoroughly enjoying themselves. Before this year, Olivia hadn't paid Ethan an inkling of attention, but now she was at ease. She appeared almost normal as they both fed the flobberworm at the same time from both ends of its body. Niles was watching them with repugnance, rubbing his mucus-filled hands on dry leaves. He was paired with Harper, who never had a clear opinion of anything. Flora and Hestia were enjoying themselves as well, and also appeared to be enjoying the lettuce.

"Don't hurt it!" exclaimed Tim Morcott suddenly. I had forgotten his existence again. A few Gryffindors sniggered.

"It wasn't eating it!" Malcolm retorted.

"You've got to have _patience_."

"Wha's goin' on 'ere?" inquired Hagrid, squatting down to see the flobberworm twitching.

"Malcolm Ilminster isn't being kind to your flobberworm and practically shoved the lettuce down its throat," said Tim.

"Flobberworms don't even have throats!"

Hagrid gasped. "You don' treat a flobber like tha'! Feed it too much er too l'il and it'll keel over!" He bent over and picked up the flobberworm, which gave an acutely human moan. I looked away, feeling a bit sensitive in the stomach area. Hagrid cradled it like an infant and terminated the lesson with a sigh. We were fine with it, but a few Gryffindors were disappointed that he didn't dock points.

We parted with Ethan at the entrance corridor.

"Have fun at Ancient Runes," I told him. I wanted to ask him if he would like to talk about anything else later, but it was a crowded and uncomfortable space.

"At this rate, you'll be copying homework today," said Lacey. Ethan rolled his eyes and waved, heading off alone. Lacey and I gathered our Divination books and headed towards the deserted hallway occupying Trelawney's classroom.

Attendance alone took ten minutes, as Trelawney seemed to be interested in extrapolating everyone's future based on Pureblood family names. I hated being in the same atmosphere with Gryffindors again. It was made even worse when Trelawney predicted some of them with parents in the Ministry would have bright futures and multitudinous accomplishments. Astrix made a snide comment to a few of his friends when attendance was done, and Trelawney caught his distaste.

"You," she glanced at her name sheet, "Astrix Akron. The stars are telling me you are trying out for Quidditch?"

Astrix nodded smugly.

"The Grim has visited me. He has told me that one of the Gryffindor players would meet his death during practice. I suggest you to be cautious of how you spend your last week of life."

"How clairvoyant some people are," mumbled Astrix from the table behind us. "We're scrimmaging with _her house_ to prepare against the Slytherins."

We were next instructed to gaze at our futures through teacups. This was reminiscent of the strange occurrence at Bridget Parkinson's wedding, which I did not want to relive. What if Trelawney made a comment about my future husband in front of the entire class? It was obvious that she had no filter.

I glanced in my sloshing teacup, wishing I could drink the tea. I held it in my lap, vying to _not_ attract any sort of attention. I tensed when Trelawney approached the table, but she decided to hover over Lacey. Lacey peered up at her, worry etched into her features.

"What do you see, Miss Blackwell?"

Lacey blushed. "Crumpets and pumpkin juice."

Trelawney stroked her chin. "I predict that you are _very_ hungry." Everyone in the classroom, Gryffindors included, barked into laughter, which caused Lacey to revel in the attention. She patted her stomach and closed her eyes as if she could Transfigure crumpets into the classroom.

What did I see in my teacup? The leaves had settled into a strange formation that reminded me of a broomstick. I figured this was a safe enough answer, so I was ready when Trelawney questioned me.

"Miss Greengrass, it appears that you are invigorated for the upcoming Quidditch match."

Astrix scoffed, but Trelawney moved on. I rolled my eyes from behind her. Everyone knew I was the only witch in history who had no aptitude for Quidditch.

I swished my tea leaves around, engaging Lacey in an argument of which was better (I believed angel hair was more compact than spaghetti), when there was a loud commotion from the back of the room.

"You, Mr. Ilminster, are a snake. You're a conniving Slytherin. You will cheat people out of their money when you are a full-grown man. Now please pick up my teacup."

Malcolm ignored her and stepped on the shattered porcelain he had broken on purpose. He was trembling with fury but rubbed at his eyes. He probed into his pockets for his wand and pointed it at Trelawney, who gasped.

"Don't speak ill of my father," spat Malcolm. I recalled then, a little shop adjacent to _Borgin and Burkes_ , similar to a bank but with certain deals attached. _Ilminster's Interest_.

"Have I said a word against your father?" asked Trelawney, who seemed genuinely surprised.

Malcolm cursed and moved towards her.

"Someone accompany this boy to Dumbledore's office! I won't tolerate this type of magic use in my classroom." A few Gryffindors got up and forced Malcolm's wand back into his pocket and escorted him out of the room. Niles stared after them with contempt and stood up, backed by Harper.

"One day in and I can already tell this class is a joke," he said.

"Sit down or I might have to deduct points." Trelawney looked almost afraid to do so, but Niles obeyed, despite Harper's urge to press forward. This was worse than abrupt confrontation—he was waiting it out.

Some people will do a lot to stand up for their friends, but it was more of a rebellion against authority for Niles. Trelawney promptly predicted that he would grow up to be a dangerous antagonist against more than just people he disliked.

It is funny that sometimes grudges turn out to be right.

* * *

"What?" exclaimed Ethan. "I would've taken Divination if I knew it'd be _that_ interesting! The only other Slytherin in Ancient Runes is Tim Morcott, but at least I got to work with a brain."

"An annoying one—" Lacey started.

"But a brain nonetheless," I finished.

Transfiguration was wonderful. I was excited to be learning things I would actually have to put an effort into, as the class had been too simpleminded. Despite being the Gryffindor Head of House, McGonagall took every opportunity to give me points. I was beginning to understand that she has quite a soft heart underneath the business exterior.

Potions was not all sunshine and roses. It was the first day and already I was confused. I felt ostracized on both sides because the Gryffindors were against Slytherins for Snape's bias, but he never showed special treatment for _me_. It was worse than being a Halfblood. All the Slytherins were captivated in the lessons because we were beginning to brew useful potions this year. I have learned that the definition of "useful" is quite loose. Lacey chucked me to be Ethan's partner since he had a newfound aptitude for the subject. I was with Olivia, who expected me to do my share of work and not suck. At the end of class, she shoved the vials to me and forced me to clean up the droplets I had spilled out of the dropper. She rushed ahead to talk with Niles, who had been ignoring her since she was on holiday with attractive people in Brazil and had therefore not written him. I was afraid to cross the busy room where Snape was judging us, so I rubbed the liquid off with my sleeve. It made no holes but the material started to fray. Eh, it was worth my head. I cursed silently when my books fell and I was left alone in the room with him. My friends had gone without me but I was not about to call after them to wait when they had rejected my partnership just because I was not as capable as the average Slytherin. My Monster Book jumped out of my sack and I had to shove it inside. It ripped a few papers, but I had to get out of there before I was mauled by a much more fearful creature.

Said creature spoke. "You'll likely need extra help this year, Greengrass. If you prove that you're dedicated from the beginning, you may be able to get by."

"Would I have to stay after?" I asked begrudgingly.

"Yes, and you should every week if you'd like your grade to stay up and your report to your father to stay positive. Thursday nights should work well." He Transfigured a pass with a flick of his wand.

"I'll see. Thanks, Professor." Muggle Music was Thursday. I would do anything to take it, but I could not even mention it to Snape or he might inform my father of what my extracurricular endeavors involved. Either way, I was screwed.

Awkwardness embedded itself into my veins as I interrupted Umbridge's tangent by walking into her lesson. I handed her my pass.

"Why are you late, Miss … Greengrass?"

She probably recognized the name. This could be very bad. I gulped. "I had to clean up my Potions lab."

"Your previous lessons should not exceed the period beginning my own lesson. You should have watched your time at lab more carefully. I must have a talk with Professor Snape so he knows to inform his students of this important rule. Now take a seat over here where you are assigned." It was in last seat in the back, of course. "I was just telling your fellow classmates about the new procedures the Ministry has enforced for the curriculum of this course."

I thought this year we might be doing actual complex defensive spells. Last year was the most exciting with Lupin teaching, but we were not allowed to do anything involving risk because the younger students have "rights." Instead, Umbridge assigned us bookwork. I would have to ask my parents why the Ministry was approving this because I knew my father wouldn't like it.

"Excuse me," said a saccharine voice. It was Umbridge. "It has been twenty minutes into class, and I have not seen you move your quill across your paper. Surely you have finished the reading?"

All eyes turned to Harper. He gave a small shake of the head.

Umbridge sighed. "I should have expected this. When I was informed you had failed First Year, I knew I had a … challenging student on my hands." Her heels clacked on the floor as she approached him. She had a sickening lightness about her awry sweetness, despite the fact she was a bit overweight and evil. "But do not worry, Mr. Lee. I have volunteered to give you private lessons every Saturday night. You are expected to treat it as if it is a detention. I will be expecting you!"

Niles nudged Harper and laughed at him. Malcolm joined, recovered from the episode at Trelawney's.

"Mr. Handley?" asked Umbridge. Niles looked up with fearful eyes. "Is it your father who is the head of Muggle Infiltration Control department at the Ministry?"

Niles sat back in his seat now. "Yes, Professor. That's my father."

Umbridge chuckled as if she was lovesick and I burped inside my mouth. "He is quite a wonderful man, keeping those Muggles at bay. I expect you will flourish in my class if you are anything like him."

"I'd like to think I am. Like father, like son, Professor."

She gave a tinkle of a laugh and told a few gawking students to get back to work. Ethan turned around from in front of me as she headed to the front of the classroom and feigned retching into his sack. He then demonstrated a signal involving a circle and a finger. I had to stifle a snort, but it was not heard from the back.

At the end of class, Umbridge assigned us two essays: one due at the end of the week and the latter the following Monday. I was happy for the first time ever about homework. I could not wait to see Lacey and Ethan crack under the pressure.

* * *

Frog Choir met for an introductory practice that night. Compared with the rest of the choir, I was able to notice a change in my voice. It had gotten loud and there was a slight quivering when I held out notes that resembled Flitwick's desired vibrato. For the first practice, we were able to sit wherever we wanted. The room was crowded with the chatter of older students who had choir in the bag, the middle students who were excited for a new year full of different promises, and the young ones, who were concerned if this was something they would actually like.

Flitwick put a charm on his voice so he was heard over the prattle. "If only you sung this loud!" he bellowed. It was a strange sound coming from such a little man. "I want to tell you all of the new opportunities and excursions this year before we begin singing.

"We will have more opportunities to sing at events this year than ever before. I have scheduled these events ahead of time because I saw how much you all enjoyed singing at the Yule Ball this year. Because of this, I have gotten permission for all older students to sing at Hogsmeade if you already have written permission from your parents."

"Why can't we go?" asked a squeaky-voiced young'un.

"Because then everyone would be in Frog Choir, and we can only have the best of the best!" answered Flitwick. "Now, this year we will also be singing more songs in other languages. Please, no complaining. It is simple to learn the sounds of languages, but the trouble you may have with Runes contains definitions and spellings. Songs are very repetitive.

"The reason why I am stressing the importance of this is because the first operas and voice selections were not in English, but in Italian and German. There is much more variety if you expand your horizons. And if you are serious about Frog Choir, you will want a classical music education."

"How are we supposed to feel the music if we don't know what we're singing?" asked a Ravenclaw.

"Music _is_ feeling. The words come after.

"You will also be learning different notes and how they interact with one another. There is a term I would like you all to learn and understand the fundamentals of by the end of the year. This is not a tall order. When certain disharmonious notes clash but do not sound like a hippogriff screaming, these notes are 'dissonant.' When the dissonant notes become harmonious again, they are 'resolved.' You need to recognize when this is happening when you read music by the end of the year.

"Another problem with Frog Choir that students seem to have is being unable to read music. You will be given sight-reading practice this year. Because this is not an actual class, I cannot test you for a grade, but I will give you exercises should you wish to complete them. Then I will not take excuses when alto students claim they cannot decipher what they are singing." I snorted at Lacey, who was beside me. "The sopranos have no excuse either way. Anyone can decipher a melody." I huffed through my nose. "And the men just sing an octave below. What is most important is how you are able to sing it. Being able to play an instrument is an important foundation for understanding music theory, but you must also have the correct singing technique. Thus far, no one has demonstrated proper vibrato, has any idea how to sing with a head tone, and has no full sense of dynamics and when to fully project, let alone _how_ to fully project. This is not your fault. Until now, Hogwarts has not had the resources or teachers to teach you all. Now that we do, I suggest you take full advantage of the courses we have to offer. There is orchestra, Muggle Music, and others I seem to have misplaced….

"Before it gets too late, I would like to sort you into your sections. I understand some of you _know_ you are a soprano or alto, and the men know they are men, I presume in most cases. But I still need to arrange your seats within those sections, so please step into lines and come forward. Don't be shy." He smiled at a few timid First Years.

I could barely hear half of the students who sung. Flitwick charmed the piano to play a few warmups, so he turned his ear towards the quieter students. I went up with Lacey and he smiled in recognition.

"Keeping up with piano, Astoria?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I am glad to hear that. Now—" he flicked his wand at the piano and the warmups made a steady sound upwards. We sang whatever strange phrase he devised for us, and I felt my voice getting louder as we went higher. It had never sounded so strong before.

"I believe you know where you each belong." Flitwick smiled. Lacey shot me a glare and went over to the alto section, where Flitwick told her where to sit.

We sight-read a few pieces and received our folders to put our music inside. The copies were Transfigured swiftly. We were given a Latin Church song, an Italian song (this was not like any of the fun ones on the iPod, like "Arrivederci Roma," "Volare," "That's Amore," or "Eh Cumpari," or even "Tango of the Roses"). It was an operatic aria meant to "broaden our horizons." We also had to suffer through a Celestina Warbeck song because it was requested by parents donating money. Flitwick seemed jovial to give us "Edelweiss" from the Muggle musical _The Sound of Music_ and some weird love song from _West Side Story_ (another Muggle musical). Everyone was complaining of no Weird Sister stuff. Flitwick claimed that they were contemporary and we might get there eventually, but that there is better material for modern selections we could work on instead.

Lacey and I talked this over excitedly in the common room, already bashing Flitwick's choice in music but happy to have something to complain about. When I saw Ethan saunter inside, I wondered how he could look so infuriated when we were so happy.

He stopped in front of me. The couch seemed to sink further down as he stared at me.

"I was just at the library to get my Monster Book. The bookkeeper didn't want to get any more out when I was at Diagon Alley.

"But never mind that. I figured I'd do some research when I was there, since I'll be spending a lot of time at the library because of the _deal._ So I opened a curious book on Unbreakable Vows, and do you know what I found?"

I stood up, preparing to bolt.

Ethan grasped my shoulders. For someone with such a skinny frame, I had not realized how strong he was before. "I found an article saying _what happens_ when you break that vow, as if it was a common fact known to the Wizarding world."

"What happens?" Lacey asked casually.

"You _die,_ that's what!" Ethan hollered, letting my shoulders go to gesticulate. "Proud to be a Slytherin _and_ a murderer, Astoria? Then again, the two _are_ interchangeable. Should've asked Trelawney to warn me of impending death! Fucking _Purebloods_."

I ate breakfast with the Ravenclaws the next morning. I felt like I did at the beginning of First Year; unsure of whom my friends were, or if I even had any. Over the next week, I spent most of my time in the library doing essays or with Fay and the other Ravenclaws in our year. I was smart enough in most subjects to fit in and most of them knew me by my last name, anyhow.

It was the first Saturday after school started, so I decided to take no advantage of it and sit in the vacant common room. I perfected Snape's essay to make sure my grades were good enough so I would not have to attend extra help on Thursday. Everyone else was at Quidditch tryouts, electives, the grounds, the library, the Great Hall, or anywhere but the Dungeons on a sunny Saturday. I wished I had gotten to tell Lacey and Ethan good luck.

The Dungeon had good acoustics, so I went over "Edelweiss." Flitwick had inserted an accompaniment in the music so we could practice since most of us were not competent enough to sight read or play an instrument. I paced back and forth near the glass shielding the Dungeons from the lake. I started when I saw a sea creature tapping on the glass. I put my hand against it.

I gasped when my hand came away wet and with a golden egg. The glass parted so I could pull it all the way into the Dungeon. I called for the sea creature, but it had gone. I pictured its face: small and gray with wideset eyes, with hair like Medusa.

I tried prying open the egg, but it would not budge. I sat on the floor and tried again, sprawling over it as I made a grunting noise. It still would not open. I banged the golden egg against a table, testing to see if it was hollow. It appeared to be, but it was also heavy gold, so it was almost impossible to tell. I huffed, taking out my wand and murmuring a spell. I prayed the thing wouldn't combust.

A bright light emitted from the egg as it sprung open and I jumped backwards, wand rolling away. My ears had been raped.

A shrill scream filled the room.

* * *

 **A/N:** Whoa, what an intense first day back! This chapter is so exciting because you get the perfect combination of music, school, magic, conflict, dialogue, and plot. Everything in this chapter will alert you to what direction this story is headed in. I hope you're as hyped as I am!

 **Red alert:** Updates may be more infrequent than usual. Thus far I've tried to update once a week on the dot and have been lucky enough to keep it up. However, I'm starting to get really busy and am getting a life again, so updates may not be on a specific day or might be every two weeks. But no fear! Just because I'm busy, doesn't mean I forget. I'm a person who finishes projects :).

 **If you're viewing this story, I'd love you to _re_ view it as well! **Getting more dedicated readers who provide feedback will make me happy to know that there are more than two people who are enjoying this story and will help me improve in certain areas if you'd like to suggest anything. For this chapter, **I'm welcoming one character question per review which I will respond to at the end of the next chapter from the character's POV.** Always feel free to ask general questions as well.

To all my readers: **_Have a fantastic Friday!_** Hope you're all enjoying the last few weeks of summer. *cue tears


	10. Eighth Wonder

**A/N:** I didn't come up with mop tops or anything related to them. The following is my own drivel and isn't to be taken seriously.

* * *

The next morning was downcast as we made a rainy trudge to the grounds for Care of Magical Creatures. I was cold and alone. I could not share why there was a gargantuan weight holding down my bag with my friends, or just have them stand beside me. Lacey even managed to find another partner to work on the flobberworms with. I was stuck with our old one. It was not feeling well. Because Lacey had always been the one to nurture the flobberworm, I had no idea how to feed it. I stuck in some lettuce and let it do the chewing.

Either the lettuce was old, or the flobberworm had indigestion problems. Its innards started making gurgling sounds and something resembling lymph nodes swelled.

Soon I was covered with a mucus substance resembling barf.

Instead of laughing, everyone took a step back when they saw my issue. Hagrid apologized and cradled the worm in his arms as if it was my fault.

"I dunno the spell—does anyone here know the spell to clean 'er up?"

Olivia stepped forward, eyeing the barf. " _Scourgify_ ," she pronounced firmly. The barf vanished and my robes even sparkled.

"Thanks, Olivia."

"They want to talk to you," she told me, pointing to Ethan and Lacey. Because of my minor incident, class was over, so everyone forgot about the puke and was smiling at me. I grimaced and approached my friends. Would they curse me? Did I deserve it?

"We forgive you," said Lacey.

"There's nothing to forgive," disagreed Ethan. "When guys fight, we just punch each other a little harder than normal and we're good."

"Either way, I'm glad we're friends again," I said. "I'm so sorry. I know I should've told you."

"It's fine! That way you know we'll actually do it," said Lacey.

"Besides," Ethan added, "I won't be the one to lose, so I have nothing to worry about."

Lacey was skeptical and I sensed another argument over the horizon. I turned the conversation to Quidditch and asked how tryouts had gone.

"Well, I just hate playing it," replied Lacey. "I'm bloody terrible."

"You just started."

"My parents have been preparing me my entire life. I suck, Stor. There's no getting around it."

"Well, at least I'm not playing. Then Slytherin would lose for sure. So, did you guys get in?"

"They're still thinking about it," said Ethan. "They might put Lacey in for a stand-in, but I definitely didn't make it. It's all well, though. Imagine what Flint would've done if I actually made the team if he threatened to beat me with a broom during tryouts."

Lacey balanced her monster book on her head as she coordinated everything. "It would've been worse if you were good, Ethan. Then they'd really resent you being on the team. You know, since you're Muggle-born and all."

"I can be bad at Quidditch, but maybe Purebloods wouldn't be such dumbarses if they stopped breeding with their cousins. See you two later. I'm off to Runes to actually learn something."

* * *

I explained the egg to my friends at dinner. Lacey was mesmerized with greed when she held it in her hands. Ethan knocked on it and put his ear against it.

"Anyone in there?"

I snatched it back from him, almost dropping it in the process. Niles sauntered over with Malcolm and Olivia.

"Did you lay that, Greengrass? You must have a pretty big—"

"She laid it so Travers would owe child support!" laughed Malcolm. The only time he ever smiled was at someone else's expense.

Ethan whipped out his wand, but it didn't help the abrupt shame and annoyance washing over me. We never got a moment's peace in this world.

"Shut up, Niles," snapped Olivia. Ethan froze with his wand in midair. "We all know that you're the one with the big arsehole." Lacey outright laughed and some food dribbled out of my mouth when I snorted.

"You would say that, you little slut," Niles said, but he took his food and left the table.

Ethan pulled a chair out for Olivia, who plopped herself down rightfully. "He always needs to have the last word. He's so pathetic."

"How can you let him talk to you like that?" Ethan asked.

"We're friends with benefits," answered Olivia. Ethan blushed. "Why are you acting as if you're surprised by indecency?" She lowered her voice and raised her face close to Ethan's, who was standing but did not back away. I shared an awkward glance with Lacey. "Not that it's any of your business, but I _am_ a virgin. Mostly, anyway." She smiled and stood up. "Well, we better go kiss and make up. You're a good friend to her, Ethan." I blushed as I was inserted into the conversation because I was literally across the table.

Olivia planted a kiss onto the corner of Ethan's mouth and I grasped the table, feeling as if I had witnessed something private. I felt like a child next to Olivia, and by Ethan's expression, it appeared he did as well.

Olivia walked down the hall, her hips swaying in a way some Seventh Years could not attain. Ethan took a moment before he sat down.

"Well," said Lacey, "she's a little hornball." We finished our meal in mostly silence. Ethan probably would have felt weird talking about girls in front of us, even though Lacey and I had never minded bringing up the Weasley twins or anyone else while he was around. Then again, we were pretty shameless.

Fay greeted us and seemed happy we were all friends again. I told her about the egg and we decided we would visit the library to do research. Ethan and Lacey passed because they still had homework to finish.

I used to love reading as much as a Ravenclaw, but Madame Pince had prevented me from visiting the library more than twice a year. Fay had memorized where everything was and showed me the section on merpeople.

"The books are great for projects, but if you want easy information, check the newspaper articles," she said. "I'll go get you some." I piled a few more books into my arms, already overwhelmed with information.

Fay walked back with a terrified look on her face. I sifted through the newspapers. "What's wrong?" I asked her.

She paled further. "Astrix is in the aisle in front of us," she whispered.

I laughed, not bothering to keep my voice down. "Whereabouts would you say he is?"

"Right across from me."

I waved my wand and whispered a spell, causing the books to fall backwards onto Astrix. I shoved Fay so she would be visible through the hole and I spotted Astrix's face peering in from the other side. He rubbed the bump forming on his head.

"I'm sorry!" Fay whispered through the hole. "My friend Astoria … um, she's clumsy."

"That doesn't surprise me. She broke two teacups in one Divination class."

"Ha ha," I murmured while simultaneously scanning the articles.

"This is kind of hurting my neck," said Astrix. "Mind if I join you over there?"

Fay nodded, unable to speak further.

"What are you researching?" asked Astrix, judging my myriad of books. "Madame Pince won't allow you to take out all of those."

"Astoria got an egg from the merpeople," explained Fay. "She's tried opening it to listen to it, but it just shrieks."

"We should try it in here," I suggested. Astrix rolled his eyes.

"Why are you so special?"

"Excuse me?"

"I think he's wondering why they'd give it to you," said Fay. Astrix was gratuitous of her clarification.

"Well, I was singing when the merperson put it through the dungeon glass."

Astrix laughed. "It probably wanted you to stop." He turned to Fay and started making conversation about things I preferred not to intrude on, so I concentrated on the introduction in the first book.

 _"The oldest recorded merpeople were known as sirens (Greece) and it is in warmer waters that we find the beautiful mermaids more frequently depicted in Muggle literature and painting. The selkies of Scotland and the Merrows of Ireland are less beautiful, but they share that love of music which is common to all merpeople."_

"Astoria, we've been calling your name," said Fay.

"Sorry, what is it?"

Astrix rolled his eyes; his particular trademark. "I said that the merpeople probably have a message for you."

"Obviously."

"They probably liked your voice and want you to share it with them."

"How would you know that?" I asked.

"I actually pay attention in History of Magic."

I imitated his snobby Gryffindor platitude, shoving half of the books back into wrong places. How would they help me? It was too much information to sift through.

"You two have fun," I smirked, leaving them be. Fay looked murderous at my lack of subtlety. I went to the Room of Requirement to hone my piano music. I also practiced Flitwick's choral music, glancing through my efficacious window at Black Lake.

* * *

Thursday was a blur. It dragged on endlessly and was even worse when I had to go to Snape's after dinner for extra help. Muggle Music was at seven but Snape was determined to give me as much work as possible. I whizzed through everything, my quill scratching half-arsed work onto parchment. At five to seven, I wrote the last sentence of my essay. It was a lab report on several measurements of flasks and percent error in several altered experiments. I had all the correct data because of Olivia's accuracy, but the numbers did not match the math I had done after school. At least he knew I was "trying"?

"Miss Greengrass, what seems to be the rush? You take your merry time during class."

"I have to be somewhere," I replied.

"I am sure any romantic unions can wait."

"I finished, Professor," I bit back.

Snape meandered over to the Slytherin basket of work. He took out my essay and scanned it while I watched the clock.

"What excuse do you have that my class is not important as, Greengrass?"

I sighed. "I have Muggle Music today. But any other time would work, Professor. I'm sorry. Your class is important."

"Your work doesn't testify to it."

"I'm sorry." It was two minutes to seven.

"Extracurriculars come after school priorities and are for students who are acing all of their classes. Besides, there are more useful courses for you to take than _Muggle Music_."

"I need it to improve my musical education."

"You need my class to improve your _magical_ education."

One minute to seven. "Please, Professor. I'll do anything if there are any other options or days to come for extra help."

Snape didn't answer me for a moment and I was worried he had not heard me. He smoothed out my paper and put it back into the Slytherin pile. Then he regarded me. "Because of your desperation, I will consider your _options._ However, first you must go out of your way to obtain information on the students I inquired you about before. Soon I'll have a mission for you to find out whatever trouble Potter is brewing up. As if the arrogant git can really brew at all."

"Thanks, Professor!" I said, not even minding about the strings attached. It was seven o'clock, and I had Muggle Music to get to.

I was not the only student late. A middle-aged woman in nice dress clothes stood in the front of the class. She meant business, but appeared to be a kind person. Ethan looked relieved when I made my way into the classroom. A few students bubbled with excitement, others discussing Quidditch. Professor Burbage made a high-pitched noise for us to quiet.

"If you don't know why you're here, it might be a good idea for you to read the board. My name is Professor Burbage. I also teach Muggle Studies. Tonight, you're here to learn about Muggle music.

"Muggle music is so diverse that even with regular class time it would still take you many years to learn everything. It's something you can't fully comprehend unless you've grown up as a Muggle. But the next best thing is taking this class! I'll be covering everything from classical to modern pop music. So if you're not willing to treat this as an actual class and accept the good with the bad, I suggest you leave now. I promise I'll take no personal offense."

A few students fidgeted in their seats but no one moved.

"You don't need to be able to read music or understand theory in order to take this course. However, I do suggest that you should take choir or orchestra in order to connect the dots. Otherwise, you might be really confused!" she told us sweetly.

"The only thing you need to do in this class is to sit and listen. I won't even tell you to take notes. You already do enough of that during the day. If you're in my Muggle Studies class, you know all the homework I give you! All I want you to do is pay attention to the music and think about it every chance you get. That'll be the only homework you'll ever get in this class.

"Before we listen, I'll introduce the composer or songwriter to you and provide a few facts about their life. Then we'll listen to their breakthrough song, critically acclaimed song, and most popular song. After, we'll break into three groups that will have questions for discussions. We can each share our opinions on how the music has affected us and interpretation, et cetera."

A Ravenclaw raised their hand and spoke. "Do you have a course selection for us?"

"I'm afraid there is no set order of doing things. Music isn't all smooth and ordinary. Quite the contrary, in fact! We'll listen to whatever deems fit for that day. Speaking of, I believe we should start with what some argue to be the most famous band of all time. They're English, and even some of you Purebloods might know about them." She chuckled. "I'm sure even some of your parents didn't want to miss out on the Magical Mystery Tour."

Ethan let out a gasp, causing a few Purebloods to gawk at him.

"I present to you: the Beetles!"

A picture of the said "Beatles" appeared on the wall. They were English-looking lads dressed like people from Paris. They had cute hair and pretty cheesy smiles. Naturally, I loved it.

"John's the singer, but sometimes Paul is too. It really depends. Paul is on bass sometimes. George Harrison is on lead guitar. John plays the guitar too. Ringo is always on drums," Professor Burbage said this all in one breath. Somehow we managed to understand her; the band fell into place very well.

"The Beatles are from Liverpool, which is a small Muggle village in England. John, Paul, and George had a similar admiration for the guitar." She swished her wand and a simple acoustic sounded through a ventriloquist area of the room. "The difference between this and regular acoustics was their style. They took to a genre of music called rock, which in the nineteen sixties, was quite rebellious." Now the guitar acoustic resonated a neutral quietness that evolved into something that made me want to move. I felt strange inside as the gritty music poured outward into my ears. I smiled, feeling something between happy and sad—something that can only be described as intense. A bass flowed in underneath the electric guitar harmonies and everyone around me looked as if something deep inside their souls had suddenly woken up.

"They eventually made their way to soddy bars in Hamburg and met Brain Epstein, who helped them become a sensation all over England. They got their famous little mop-tops and soon the girls in America were going crazy. The whole world was ecstatic with happiness. They couldn't even hear themselves playing at concerts, the screams were so loud!

"Believe it or not, they got tired of the repetitive fame and touring. They got tired of sitting in the recording studios doing the same routine. They took a break, made their style more surreal. But even that couldn't last forever. They could only do so much. When you go as far as you can go, sometimes the only direction left is down and out. But it isn't all over. People like you are still enjoying them.

"We'll start with their breakthrough song. This was what made them famous in America. It's called 'I Want to Hold Your Hand.' If there is one Muggle song you already know, it'll be this one."

The music blared from the speakers and everyone became silent. The girls blushed and the boys tapped their feet. Ethan was mouthing the words out of the corner of his mouth. How did they make such simple lyrics be so probing? The Beatles moved as they played from the wall and I felt as if I was connected to this other time in another world. When the song slowed down at the bridge, I was one of the girls who sighed. When they reached their high note on the last chorus, a few of the upperclassmen stood up and started hooting for an encore. Too soon they closed with a few heavenly notes. We all stood up and applauded. When it died down, there was a quiet sadness pressing down upon us because the moment was over and so far away.

"Glad you liked it, everyone! Not that I expected anything less. Now, it's hard to pick their most critically acclaimed song, but I've decided on a personal favorite called 'Strawberry Fields Forever.'"

The aforementioned song was of a more complicated style than the first. I recognized Flitwick's ingrained dissonance. This song had the surreal take Burbage had earlier described. It had a mellow melody, as if the balance of notes were not included in the song. It felt as if a great pain had been dulled until the instrumental took over at the end and the song fizzled out.

"Again, it is impossible to choose their most famous song. They have so many, and because of the time period, we can't tell which is the most popular among the public. But I've been an expert of Muggles for many years, so I'm going to go with 'Hey Jude.' This is mostly sung by Paul McCartney."

"Hey Jude" differed from both of the previous songs. It seemed more mature and accepting, as if the speaker was ready to face whatever life dealt him. Ethan was lip syncing again, and I watched him with a smile. A few people sung out towards the end when the song became repetitive and took on a rock sound. When it was over, Professor Burbage sorted us into groups.

The people in the song group "I Want to Hold Your Hand" discussed the meaning first. "They want that arse!" Ernie Macmillian answered. A few others who didn't care for the song snickered.

"Is that why it's so popular?" asked Burbage. "Why do Muggles like it?" She caught the glance of a few interspersed Slytherins. "No negative comments, please."

"Love makes the world go around," said Hermione Granger. Despite being a Muggle-born Gryffindor, I had to respect her answer. Why were they always so smart?

"You can really move to it!" exclaimed Ethan.

"Great answer, young man! Since Elvis, everyone wanted a song they could dance to. It might be simple at first glance, but the vocal harmonies and guitar duos made the young people go crazy. Even Elvis didn't practically scream in his songs. They really were part of the rock movement starting and because they were a boy band, everyone loved them. They had the image Americans wanted to see. So there you have it."

The "Strawberry Fields Forever" group went next. Burbage explained that it had a literal meaning of an orphanage that John used to visit as a child when he was pensive. She asked why it was critically acclaimed, in their opinions.

"It's acclaimed because of the different sound and various instruments," answered Hermione Granger, who somehow had managed to insert herself into two groups.

"Nice, Herimione! Ten points to Gryffindor. It's also because of the dissonance and different, evolving style. If you're a real expert, you might have noticed the key changes between instruments from the flutes in the beginning to the horns in the end. There are also a lot of paradoxical lyrics. Again, the Beatles presented the world with a style no one had ever seen before. Now, what's it about?"

"I think it's about John going back to an ordinary past when he was ignorant. It's a blessing and a curse. He isn't sure about reality anymore because his perceptions have changed so much," answered a smug Ravenclaw.

Burbage smiled. "Lyrics are wonderful to tap into. You never know what the person means. Sometimes even the musician doesn't when they're not the speaker. It's an outlet for both the listeners and the artist. I hope that you can turn to music whenever you need to cope with something that can never be understood. It will help you more than any kind of magic here." A few students looked distressed, so Burbage harried on. "Now, for the last song. 'Hey Jude.'

"'Hey Jude' was written by Paul for John's son, Julian. It was during when his parents were getting divorced. Not only was this rough on Julian because of his parents' separation, but because his father didn't acknowledge him as much as he needed as a boy. But as listeners, you can't always know about the background of the writing process. So as a universal interpretation, what does this song mean to you?"

All eyes were on me, but I went for it. "It's a way to cope with life. It's about growing up, which would make sense because Julian probably had to become really mature at a young age. It's about accepting life and learning how to cope with it and to live it for yourself. Do you … do you think that's right?"

"Yes, I think that could be it." Burbage looked distracted. "Why do you think it's famous?" Someone answered that it was highly identifiable and she nodded, approving their answer.

"It would take the rest of the year to describe all of their music and lives, so if you want to learn more about them, I suggest you go to the library or ask me to make a copy of their anthologies for you to listen."

"Are they still writing music?" a Hufflepuff asked.

"No," said Ethan. "The band broke up when your parents were barely potty-trained."

Burbage frowned. "Two members of the band have also died. John died in a terrible assassination, and George had lung cancer."

A few of the students who had rushed over to grab their albums froze and looked up in horrification. I must have had a similar expression because Ethan grasped my hand.

"That's sad," said Hermione. "They were very talented."

"We just got to know their music and half of them are dead," an irritated Slytherin glowered.

Burbage waved her wand as she made copies for the albums for everyone. "If there is one thing I hope you learn from this class, it's that music never dies. As the world around you changes and people leave, you can always turn to a song."

People took their time leaving and I remained, wanting to ask Professor Burbage about the egg. I told her what had happened and she appeared delighted for me.

"Miss Greengrass, it's quite an honor to receive a gift from a merperson. They are lovers of music and must want to convey a message to you."

"I was singing when the merperson gave me the egg," I admitted.

"Well, you must listen to it right away, then! It isn't often they admire the human species for our arts and might have something they wish to share. On the contrary, they might want you to share your gift with them. You can only hear it underwater, so I suggest you find a quiet space and get to it. The girls' bathroom on the first floor should do fine."

Back in the common room, everyone was miserable and procrastinating. My hand was about to fall off and I wasn't even halfway done with my homework. Lacey was biting her nails in an effort to not peek over to my answers.

"They're all wrong anyway," I told her.

"Since when have I cared?"

Ethan nudged me. Instead of doing his homework, he had been watching Olivia all night. "Is Olivia staring at me?" he asked.

"No," I answered without looking up. She had been sprawled on Niles's lap all night. Olivia likely had things on her mind other than Ethan. It seemed she had substituted Daphne's place in having boys take priority. Daphne was currently in the corner, murmuring to Tracey and occasionally glancing in my direction.

"I can't go on like this!" exclaimed Lacey. "I have Quidditch in half an hour, even though it's dark. I have to deal with people bossing me around for two _more_ hours. I have to listen to Draco Malfoy bitch about his broom not being shiny enough and his bristles missing and everyone else not doing anything right. Then I have to come back and do all of my homework."

"You could just not do it," said Ethan. "Snape has even given me extensions."

"My parents will know. They stalk my every move when it comes to school. I'll be up till midnight."

"And you'll wake me up with your grumbling when your quill runs out," I said.

"I don't want to hear it from you until you play a sport!"

There was a tap on my shoulder. "We need to talk," said Daphne. It was the first she had acknowledged me since King's Cross Station. I put aside my quill and followed her to her dormitory.

Daphne crossed her arms. "I won't tolerate you talking to you-know-who."

I laughed. "So Blaise is equivalent to the Dark Lord now?"

"Not everything is a joke, Astoria. I need you to promise me you won't talk to him."

"If I knew he'd actually done something wrong, then maybe I wouldn't!"

"Why do you need an explanation for everything?! Are _you_ the eldest? Father taught us to stand by family and not question anything. _You_ are why Purebloods are suffering from reverse discrimination."

"Do you even know what that means?"

"You think I'm so dumb! Well, I'm not. I might not care about school, but just because I like boys and don't care about consequences, doesn't mean I'm stupid!" she cried. "I don't want you talking to Blaise, and that's it. I'll know if you don't listen."

"What happens then?" I challenged.

"I'll tell Father you're cozying up to that Mudblood."

"Why are you such a bitch?! How would you do this to your own sister?"

"I could say the same to you. You need to learn how to play the game, Astoria. Believe it or not, I don't hate you. You just have too many values and thoughts running through your head. You only see your side. Someday you'll understand."

I charged down to my own dormitory and screamed into my pillow until my throat was raw. When I felt that I wouldn't curse anyone who crossed paths with me, I took my egg from its secure place underneath my bed and shoved it into my bag. After descending to the Dungeons, I waved to Ethan and gestured to my bag with my eyes. Lacey had already left, having gone to Quidditch practice.

"Hullllllo," squealed an excited voice when I opened the bathroom door. I started and gasped. "I'm Moaning Myrtle!" the ghost hollered. "What brings you here to my bathroom?"

"I—uh—have to take a bath," I replied. "Could I have a bit of privacy?"

Myrtle lowered hovering form to look me in the face. A breeze waved my hair around. "Why, of course. But I wouldn't allow that if you were none other than Harry Potter!" She whooped and gave herself a swirly in her own stall. There are a lot of weird things people do in bathrooms. If she liked to watch Harry Potter do these weird things, Moaning Myrtle is probably a bit of a pervert. At least this would mean no one would come into the vicinity other than myself and Harry Potter.

Deciding for the first time in my life to bathe with my skivvies on, I filled the porcelain tub full of lukewarm water. I took my egg out of my bag and took a deep breath. It opened with ease underwater. I forgot about the uncomfortable feeling of holding my breath when a majestic sound poured forth from its golden orb.

 _Come seek us where our voices sound,_

 _We cannot sing above the ground,_

 _And while you're searching, act on this;_

 _Gather yourself upon the Loch Ness_

 _In a place where magic has killed the muse_

 _We will kindle your gift, so you may choose._

I listened to its song several more times before going to bed. Lacey begged me to do her homework during the weekend if I saw what went on at Quidditch practice. Normally I would never put myself through watching testosterone on a broom on a cold, fall night, but I had a mission from Snape. There was also no other legal place I could help Lacey with her homework without Ethan discovering.

* * *

I updated my friends on the egg's message at breakfast. Ethan wrote it down on a piece of parchment and said we would figure out what to do by the end of the day.

It was the worst school day so far that year. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harper was as quiet as ever. Lacey told us that he had quit Quidditch. I almost pitied how Umbridge bullied him. We had a unit test that day on defense counteract spells. I penned out my name. Thank Merlin there was something obvious on this test.

 _Question 1. What are the scenarios of the counteract spell to the bat-bogey hex?_ Had we done any of these problems in the textbook? No, but I did recall skipping over some useless reading material it had included. I imagined my father's disgust at the way the Ministry adhered this subject and for once shared his opinion. I answered the questions that I understood from previous years, common sense, and other classes and then made educated guesses for the rest. Meanwhile, Umbridge pretended to be oblivious to Niles cheating off Malcolm, who is barely smarter than himself. Lacey was engrossed in her test, moving with purpose but looking as if her head might crash down upon the desk. Ethan's head was already _on_ his desk. I snuck a glance at Umbridge, who turned her doe eyes onto Ethan. As she approached, I tried every tactic from whispering, to throwing a spitball, to using derogative nicknames. Stupid no-wand rules.

Umbridge probed her wand inside Ethan's ear, who awoke with a sharp cry of pain.

"What makes you think that under any circumstance you can sleep in my class, Mr. Travers?"

"I'm sorry, Professor. I—uh—didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep."

"That is no excuse, and it is even worse that you have not finished your test." Ethan reached for his disarrayed quill that had smeared across his paper and had wrinkled feathers. Umbridge snatched it up and made a tsk noise. "This is mine now," she giggled. "I expect to see you at detention this Saturday night at seven. Keep your head up!"

"I'm not going," glowered Ethan on our way to Potions. "I didn't do anything to warrant a detention. Besides, what if I had plans on Saturday?"

Lacey laughed, languid but not beyond mockery. "As if."

We slid into our desks and Snape passed out papers for yet another test. Surprisingly, Harper inserted his way into our conversation. "You're dead if you don't show up, Travers. At least if you do go, you'll only be maimed."

"What'd she make you do?" asked Ethan.

"She made me promise not to tell."

Niles sniggered. "I bet she made you memorize the dictionary."

"That would explain him knowing how to use the word 'maim' correctly," sneered Malcolm. I rolled my eyes at them and spotted Olivia arriving in what was an unkempt appearance for her. That is, there was one hair out of place, her eyebrows were not as on fleet as usual, and her lip gloss was completely missing.

Ethan gave Olivia a bashful smile, but she ignored him for once and settled next to Niles. She stroked his arm and asked him for a quill. He obliged with a smug look. Malcolm frowned, and Ethan looked devastated. As much as I was glad to have no one interfere with the three amigos' friendship, I could not bring myself to be happy when watching Ethan's face.

"We do have plans Saturday," I told him, hoping Olivia would hear. Ethan's eyebrow twitched upwards. "We're going to Black Lake," I whispered. He caught on and smiled, and I felt a swelling pride in my chest.

"No one has permission to talk during my tests unless they have a one hundred in this class," Snape drawled. I felt a cold sensation. "I doubt that will ever happen, especially to _you,_ Greengrass."

The Gryffindors guffawed—and Snape even let them. Niles and his crew did as well, but it was especially humiliating when Lacey joined in. My throat burned and I glued my eyes to the test. I could not concentrate on the questions, and it also didn't help that it was impossible to figure any of them.

Snape was bully. No wonder he fit in so well with Father. He was sadistic and plain rude with no consideration for anyone's feelings. But that was expected. Why did my own friend have to laugh at me?

I didn't answer some of the questions and knew most of them were wrong. I would probably never get to go to another Muggle Music class. As I exited the classroom alone, anger etched itself into my bones. How dare Snape shame me! I was smart and everyone knew it. Just because I was not adept at his subject did not mean I had no brain. He was dead wrong.

I had to face the library again that night in order to return the merpeople books. Madame Pince glared at me as she inspected their condition. Just as I was about to snap at another person being rude to me, Blaise waved me down from an inner aisle.

"I didn't know you went near books," I whispered, approaching him.

Blaise smirked. "I need a cover to hide what I'm really doing." He became serious. "Have you talked to Daphne?"

"Yes, and I'm banned from talking to you." I suddenly looked about, afraid. "She said she'd know if I did. I'm sorry, Blaise."

I turned to go, but Blaise gripped my wrist. "Did she threaten you, Astoria?"

I nodded, feeling invisible eyes from above.

"Okay, then we won't talk." I slouched, feeling defeated. I had expected Blaise, unknowingly my hero, to have a solution.

When I reached my dormitory, Lacey and Olivia were blathering on about something. I sulked in the corner, still furious at her for laughing at me. When Olivia left to meet with Niles at the grounds after curfew, Lacey bounced on the bed and settled next to me. She waited for me to talk first.

"You laughed at me."

Lacey looked genuinely surprised. "I wasn't laughing at you. I was laughing at what Snape said."

"I don't care. You're my friend, or at least I thought. You're supposed to stand by me." Lacey liked to revel in attention, but I didn't know it would someday be at my expense.

"I never meant to hurt you. You're making a big deal out of a little something."

I glared at her.

"How about this?" asked Lacey. "I'll help you with your egg. Ask around, like. You know, so we can get into Black Lake Saturday and not drown?"

I smiled. It was too much to expect an apology from a Slytherin, but it was even better because she was actually going to make it up to me despite not understanding my position. When Lacey approached Flora and Hestia on their side of the room (she even crossed the invisible line), I knew she meant business.

"Hi, twins!" she said. "I was wondering if you knew anything about how to swim underwater for a long period of time?"

Flora and Hestia glanced at each other. They made a few twin language noises and turned back to Lacey.

"We know of something—" said Flora.

"Called gillyweed," finished Hestia.

"You'll have to get it—"

"From Professor Sprout."

"It'll give—"

"You gills.

"But she won't give it—"

"To you."

"You'll have to—"

"Get it yourself."

Lacey smiled, irked a bit. "Thanks, twins! Well, that was easy."

"Do you talk like that on purpose?" I asked Flora and Hestia before I lost my nerve. It was the first time in a year I had spoken directly to either of them.

"No, we just do it—" said Flora.

"To creep people out," finished Hestia.

For the first time ever, I felt a strange sort of admiration for the twins. I supposed that it paid to eat salad while you were supposed to be feeding the flobberworms.

* * *

Saturday, while Ethan was at his detention, Lacey and I dressed in our darkest robes and decided to sneak into the Herbology lab as soon as it was dark. At around seven o'clock, we crouched in front of the greenhouse. We had scoped out the area like the ninjas we are. Going one at a time, we lodged our feet into the chain-link fence and dropped down to the other side. We had spent the better part of an hour researching unbolting charms and practicing. It only took a simple _Alohomora_ to unlock the greenhouse.

"I'll keep watch while you look," I reminded Lacey. " _Lumos_ ," we said in unison. We didn't run the risk of turning the main lights on in case someone entered. I stood near the door, examining every sound made. Lacey shuffled in the corner, scrutinizing labels of plants, some of which were poisonous.

"Have you found it?" I asked.

"I would've told you if I had!"

"Well, it's taking you a while. This is illegal and it's making me nervous."

"I'd like you to come try this in the dark, then!"

I abandoned my post and shoved Lacey to where I was, but she refused. I searched each label carefully until I came to "-gil." There were so many, and it was dark, and everything looked so distorted—

"Eureka!" I almost shouted. I grabbed the majority of the container, assuming Professor Sprout didn't need to breathe underwater too often. We whisper-squealed, ecstatic over a pair of gills.

There was the clang of the chain-link fence.

Lacey and I turned our heads towards each other and froze for a moment, then charged into a bush. " _Knox_ ," we whispered. The bush was already poking us and firelight spiders were spinning webs in the bushy mess above us. We stuffed the gillyweed into our pockets for safekeeping.

"That's a symbiotic relationship," whispered Lacey. "The spiders get their food, and give the bush the silk it needs to protect it in extreme conditions."

"Saturday is when I get a break from lessons."

Just then the door opened with a creak and we held our breaths. Talk about needing gillyweed.

We could see the shoes and shuffling walk of Snape from underneath the bush. He was talking with someone who was not there, but he did not appear to be mad. Much like us, he cast a _Lumos_ spell but did not bother with the main lights.

It was as if he had something to hide.

"Here, this should make the transition process easier. It will be almost painless. Too bad there isn't a simple potion for it. But Dumbledore would surely notice this…."

He responded to whomever he was talking to. "No, everyone is unsuspecting. No one believes Potter's pottymouth. Dumbledore is as ignorant as ever. He believes we are all safe with the Ministry protocoling here … Yes, I have several students in mind. Tell him that I am constantly updating my information on these students should he wish to recruit them. Yes, very well. Give him my regards and services should he need anything else."

There was a skittering noise and then we were in complete silence again. We waited until the coast was completely clear when we emerged. Lacey was raring to go, but I held in hyperactive form in place as I vented my "Occlumency" situation to her. She listened with widened eyes and didn't speak until the end.

"I won't tell anyone," she whispered.

"I need an Unbreakable Vow. Stop that, Lacey. I'm kidding."

"I'm scared for you, Stor."

"It's all right, I've got you and Ethan."

"Imagine what he'll say!"

"I actually don't want you to say anything … A Muggle-born knowing that kind of information could be dangerous."

Lacey nodded. "Okay."

We unlocked the door and climbed the fence again, trudging up the hill at top speed. Snape must have been so immersed in his dealing that he had not noticed we had left it open.

It was midnight before Ethan returned from detention. Merlin knows what kind of torture Umbridge put him through. He was quieter than usual, but he was alive and there was no apparent scarring on his body. All was well. Most of the upperclassmen were still in the common room, so we would have to use a great amount of stealth to sneak past everyone. We assembled a plan and put it into action.

Lacey was decided to be the one to ask because she was on the Quidditch team and a Pureblood, so Draco Malfoy didn't outright hate her. She walked up to him. He looked surprised but a bit tired from a weekend of snogging Pansy. Most would be.

"Can I go pee?" she asked.

"Apparently being a Pureblood doesn't mean you know anything about etiquette," I murmured to Ethan.

Draco appeared more amused than anything. "We'll have to escort you." He got up and Pansy whined, but they must have been excited to wander the corridor after curfew and snog against the wall. What a bunch of pansies.

I followed them out, but of course they were oblivious. I stayed around the corner until Lacey had entered the bathroom and Draco and Pansy started snogging. I walked right past them and they didn't notice me. I huffed and stamped my foot.

Draco pushed Pansy aside. "In case you didn't notice, Greengrass, it's three hours after curfew."

"You don't say?" I asked, holding my hands in front of me.

What Draco and Pansy didn't know, was that Ethan Travers was right behind them, about to cast an advanced spell he was perfectly capable of.

" _Confundo!_ " he said in a voice they would never recognize.

Lacey charged out of the bathroom and we tore down the corridor and onto the grounds. Black Lake shined before us, a green layer of misty water.

"Do you think he'll report me?" I asked.

Ethan shook his head. "It's a matter of pride with Slytherins. Don't you know that?"

Lacey pushed me towards the dock. "Sing something!"

I decided to sing "Hey Jude" in a higher key.

 _Hey Jude, don't make it bad_

 _Take a sad song and make it better_

 _Remember to let her into your heart_

 _Then you can start to make it better._

Ethan, who had never heard me sing seriously before, was mesmerized. "Look!" Lacey said, knocking him out of his awkward daze. She was pointing to a few merpeople who had popped up their heads in the distance.

A great mass of black reared itself out of the water and settled on the banks of the lake. This was what the egg had referred to as the Loch Ness, but it was really the Giant Squid. It was so gargantuan that we could not tell where it began and where it ended. And where was its face?

Ethan pushed me onto it first. The squid's body wasn't slimy, but felt like leather. I shoved the gillyweed from my pockets into my mouth, panicking as the squid began to move.

"Wait! Wait for my mates!"

Ethan hoisted Lacey up behind me and stumbled onto the squid behind her, using a few indentations on its body to grasp with his feet. It stretched itself to a great height. My stomach dropped and I wanted it to be over. This was not like riding Buckbeak. This was an unpredictable sea creature. The gillyweed left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth as I felt gills forming at my lymph nodes. What would my voice sound like with them?

Beside me, Lacey looked like a fish and Ethan was green.

With a great swish faster than anyone could guess a giant squid can move, the creature swirled in the air and dived into the caliginous waters.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope ya'll don't mind the discourses on all the awesome music, because they're sticking around. :P I know this isn't my usual update day, so from now on they might just be at random. This would've been up sooner if fanfiction hadn't had technical problems.

As you can see, the characters and plot are developing at an alarming rate. If you have any questions/comments unrelated to spoilery, feel free to ask. {Especially if they're music-related ones!} I love discussing characters and plot interaction. If there is also anything you think that needs to improve, it would be great to have a critique on anything that can.

 **Review and prepare to be amazed!** **Have a wonderful Wednesday.**


	11. Eratos

A high-pitched squeal made its way out of my mouth as water whizzed past my eyes like a fast breeze. I said prayers to Merlin, feeling a sense of urgency for everything to be over. Black Lake was dark and unappealing on the inside. My gills throbbed and the giant squid made a moaning noise. Was I upside down? Where did my stomach reside?

We must have reached the bottom of the lake because the squid thumped onto something solid. I took a breath but inhaled water instead. Coughing despite my fresh pair of gills, I was flung off the squid before I could even comprehend what was happening.

"What drugs did you guys slip into my pumpkin juice?" Ethan asked, feeling his gills and looking at the induced setting.

A trio of merpeople surrounded us, armed with rusted pitchforks. I grasped onto Ethan and Lacey's hands, but even they felt foreign and slimy. I recognized the gray girl who gave me the golden egg. She hissed when she spotted my friends and held the pitchfork against their necks. Ethan squealed while Lacey glared. They did not seem active in their violence, but my stomach still plummeted.

"They have to come or I won't," I insisted. It was a struggle to speak through my gills. I did not feel like myself, but I prodded on.

The gray girl acquiesced but did not acknowledge Ethan or Lacey. I could not look her directly in the eyes. Before, I had not noticed how inhuman she was, even for a merperson. Her eyes bulged and her hair wisped back in dramatic bristles. She was quite ugly, but perversely charismatic.

The gray girl gave us a tour of the lake. The grindylows were quite nightmarish creatures that settled in the weed beds at the bottom of the lake. They were conglomerated in a large mass of tentacles so one could not tell where they began and ended. They hissed at us like my father's old artifacts would shriek when I touched them.

Seaweed was everywhere—it adorned coral and added a frilling effect to the merpeople who chose to wear it. The gray girl did not use human words, but I could tell she resented those who did.

The fish were so bright that they hurt our eyes to look at them. The gray girl let us swim beside them. I felt simpleminded and yet glorious to be part of the migrating masses which was many in one. There were shells and crawfish. But mostly there was music. It seemed to play from nowhere and everywhere. Black Lake was a ventriloquist's dream.

The water was never one color. It turned variations of green and sometimes it was almost impossible to tell the difference between it and black. As the music changed, the water shifted to reveal light and darker shadows.

They did not gather in a formation on the bottom of the lake. There seemed to be no permanent dwelling or resting place. Instead, there were frequent areas of carved rocks or motifs indicating a place each individual species tended to reside in. Anything nonliving was Spartan and not lavish. It was not needed when the creatures were brimmed with life—they seemed to have no reliance on gluttonous, materialistic objects.

The merpeople had us gather on an abandoned shipwreck at the bottom of the lake. It was almost fully restored, the mast and sail billowing in the tide. We stood on the deck and witnessed a new world firsthand as the merpeople guided the ship through the water. Coral and silver fish filled my vision. Here was a new kingdom, better than the legend of Atlantis. It was pulchritudinous in every way man's civilization was not.

A perfected species of merpeople gathered at the side of the ship. They had long locks of luscious hair covering their breasts. Their skin was hydrated and had a glow similar to the one in the Dungeons. Their fins were facets of indestructible shells that still managed to be flexible muscle. They had kaleidoscope eyes.

They cooed to me, requesting us to stay so we could hear them sing. The sirens had a differing effect than the typical merpeople. They were of a more ethereal beauty—one so harsh it was appalling.

"I have to go back," I responded in my own language, bubbles forming around my gills. The sirens ignored my wishes, however, and started to hum softly. The water swirled in a caliginous hurricane around us. I should have panicked, but I had the urge to hear what they were about to convey.

The sirens commenced their song. We held up our wands, but any effort was futile. Ethan fell susceptible first and stared with blank eyes, enamored with their voices. Lacey was composed for a while longer, but then surrendered to their whims as well. I concentrated on the music, feeling it sear through my veins. As their voices escalated, all I wanted was to listen forever.

But then I had the desire to sing with them. As my melody joined theirs, I became one with the music. It felt like floating above the sky. My voice carried me somewhere between realities until the truth was discovered. My feelings propelled us upwards. I felt that the music would stretch on forever and it would be all right. Just as I was about to surrender, the song faded out.

The sirens regarded me. They talked to me in a language incapable of describing without the gills granted by the gillyweed. They told me that they decided to let me leave because they found through hearing me in the midst of pure feeling would help them better than letting my song bottle up. I promised them that I would never forget the song and would always sing it.

The sirens are not gratuitous creatures, so when they gathered in a formation around me, I considered it a great honor. Lacey and Ethan hovered between their arms as their hair spun in the green water as they hummed beside me. The woman who had given me the golden egg now approached me with a ring embossed in a swirling evergreen color.

"I bestow upon you, the gift of creativity," the woman sang. "Do not wear this for selfish purposes, as a human would. Wear this to remind yourself of the song embedded inside your soul.

"The rose stands for the love in music. It represents Eratos, the Muse of music and poetry. We are each of us made of lyrics waiting to be unearthed. If ever you find that even music cannot save you, perform the spell. You will know it if ever you need it. But surely if you need it, you will know it—for only the bravest of us can look directly at the soul."

Before I could even begin to decipher the obscurity, waves surged around me and the merpeople's song catapulted me and my friends into the open air.

I grasped the ground beneath me, its reassurance of solidity meaning the world to me. My head spun as I coughed up water. I felt for my throat, the ridges of my gills transforming into my human neck again.

"What in Merlin's bloody name happened back there?" Lacey asked. Ethan was slumped against a boulder, wet hair slapped across his forehead. He gave a slight nod of his head as if in agreement.

"The sirens sang to us—they hypnotize humans. You're not supposed to be able to do anything about it. But when I sang with them, it took us back up. They decided to let us go because they think that I can use … my voice to help people someday. They gave me this." I showed them the ring of Erato and the rose symbol engraved onto it.

Lacey felt its ridges, her eyes widened. Her silence meant enough. "It's the muse of music."

My friends nodded in understanding, too tired to speak further. I helped them up and guided them to the Dungeons as if they were First Years in need of constant assistance. The sirens' song must have exhausted them. I felt my own sanity stretched thin against me, but at the same time felt invincible. I sang with the sirens.

"Do I want to know?" asked Marcus Flint as we trudged up the stairs. He blocked Lacey from continuing downwards. "Don't forget, we've got practice tomorrow, Blackwell. I don't give a rat's arse what you were doing, but you better be rested by then."

I knew that Lacey was tired when she was unable to bitch about having Quidditch practice the following afternoon. When I walked into the common room, it was deserted. I had a different perception of the green lake waters pressing upon the window. It was an assuaged yet eerie presence now. In the dim light, it felt like we were being cradled with music waiting to be discovered.

Lacey helped herself up to bed, but I had to get Ethan to his dormitory since he was more affected by the sirens. I suspected this was because of their Veela-like femininity. My robes were permeated with water, so the magical detectors did not go off when I crossed into the boys' dormitory. I casted a drying spell on Ethan that made his robes crinkle up with warmth.

Ethan would not have been able to snuggle underneath the covers without my assistance if they were not already undone. I turned to see Niles and his cronies fast asleep. It was strange to see them as vulnerable creatures wiped clean of the all predispositions and assumptions about their personalities. For all I knew, Malcolm could have been the optimist and Harper the know-it-all.

I shifted Ethan's wavy brown hair away from his eyes and watched as their blueness fell close. He penetrated me with a strange look of tenderness before drifting asleep.

I smiled, feeling as if I understood all the songs in the world. I even understood the ones that hadn't been written yet.

* * *

We spent most of the weekend discussing the previous night. My ring was testimony to the fact we were not subject to what Ethan claimed was LSD enthused into our pumpkin juice. But life wore on, and when school began again, it was as if nothing had changed.

My stomach plummeted when Umbridge shoved my test into my face. _Acceptable_ was written in cursive, pink marker. This was around average and not acceptable for that class. If Umbridge taught with actual wands, perhaps my marks would not be persecuted. Lacey mouthed her identical grade across the room.

Ethan held up his test for us to see when Umbridge's back was turned as she passed back Malcolm's impossibly high grade. For someone who always copied homework, he was superb at test-taking. If anything else, the boy should have been a Ravenclaw. I scrunched my nose, frustrated that I always had to work for everything.

"Excuse me," said Harper. All eyes turned towards him. For someone who never spoke up, this was a big deal.

"Excuse you indeed," Umbridge responded. "What gives you the gall to speak without permission in my class?"

"I got all these answers right," he said. "And I know because I studied." This was another revelation on Harper's part; the word "study" was a new addition to his vocabulary.

For an elephantine woman, Umbridge was over to Harper in the blink of an eye and snatched up his paper to examine it. She cried out in triumph.

"These answers do not match the material in the textbook, and therefore have not been approved by the Ministry. I will not take these!" She cast the paper away as if it was vermin.

"Fine, then I'll go to Dumbledore," Harper said cooly.

Umbridge stamped her foot. "This is my class, not Albus's! Now sit down, Lee Harper, before I have to issue you another detention! I know how much you enjoy _those._ "

"I am sitting, Professor."

"Damn," Malcolm whistled underneath his breath. Ethan made a cutting motion against his neck.

Instead of issuing the Killing Curse, Umbridge adjusted her erect posture and clacked to the front of the room. She sat and started writing with her quill and we all sat staring at each other for the rest of the period. There was work to be done but we were all too stunned to accomplish anything.

Ethan clapped Harper on the back as we exited the room. "That must've taken a lot of Slytherin balls!"

Harper shook his hand off and tore in the opposite direction. "What'd I say?"

"You prolly made a wrong assessment of his manhood," I laughed.

Lacey cackled as we approached Snape's room. "How much of a Slytherin would you say Snape is?"

Snape wrinkled his nose at my gagging noise. His scowl deepened when he handed me back my Potions exam. _Troll_ was written this time on the paper, mocking me as the letters dribbled a hologram of blood down it. My throat tightened and I was further disgusted with myself for getting emotional over grades.

I was silent for the remainder of the period, halfheartedly copying notes and doodling cryptic insults of Snape on my paper. Lacey had done decently on her test and Ethan did even better than he had in DADA. Class dragged on further when we had to break into lab partners for a potion. By the time the bell rang, my hands were covered in soot and my hair had strayed far beyond the boundaries of a ponytail.

I gave an 80-decibel sigh when I plopped into my Transfiguration seat, hoping my friends would at least complain about my cynicism. Instead, Ethan was giving doe-eyes at Olivia and Lacey was making conversation with Hufflepuffs.

"Where are all your wands?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"I left mine in my dormitory," said one Hufflepuff.

"I figured we wouldn't need them," said Niles.

"Believe it or not, we use wands in this class. Since when have you not needed one?"

"Well," said Olivia, "we just came from Potions and we never use them in DADA."

McGonagall looked horrified. "Wands are essential to magic! Even if _others_ disagree, a true Wizard always has his or her wand with them at all times in case of necessity. I'm sure you will understand when you fail today's participation in the lesson."

Thankfully, I had done one thing right today, even if it was because I never bothered taking my wand out of the robe's pocket.

"Now, let's break into groups and practice the notes you took yesterday." McGonagall paired me with Ethan and Olivia. I sat on the outskirts, watching as they pressed their desks together and leaned close to one another.

"Remember the flick of the wrist!" McGonagall called as incantations began to fill the room. We were supposed to convey a message to one another using the sense of sound. One person would write something down on a piece of paper and the other would convert it to the receiver. It was supposed to convey how information was transferred and evolved and how communication influences us differently based on how it is delivered. Quite genius, really.

Olivia was suddenly interested in me.

"Come closer, Astoria! Don't be left out," she said.

I smiled, not caring that she was conning me as long as I was not the moronic third wheel. She scrawled something down on a piece of paper and my eyes bugged out of my head. Olivia whispered into my ear.

"Is a song all right?" I asked.

She nodded, seeming enthusiastic about the idea. It took me a few moments, but I settled on the song and replayed it in my mind, taking my memory of the sound and fusing it with the written message.

"Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" blared from my wand and all eyes were turned to our group. I knew Ethan liked the song from the iPod and I blushed, abashed as hell.

"Wanna do something tonight?" asked Olivia.

It was so quiet, you could hear a wand drop. Had anyone else done that, they would have been judged as superficial and corny. But with Olivia, it was cool (sort of). The part that wasn't cool was Ethan being on the receiving end of the message. I had never thought of anyone being interested in Ethan because he was so attainable as my friend, but from across the room, Lacey seemed to think it was hysterical. Malcolm sneered in repugnance.

"Yeah, I mean yes, _bloody hell_ yes I want to do something with you tonight," Ethan said. Olivia smiled after planting a kiss similar to the one she given Ethan before. They were getting closer and closer to his lips. I smiled, reveling in Ethan's happiness. He alleviated the awkwardness better than anyone thought he would. A few Hufflepuffs applauded.

I didn't feel as bad that I would be doing Lacey's homework for her after that. Ethan was on top of the world the rest of the day and nothing could take him down (not even the Bat-Bogey hex Niles gave him in the hallway).

"I'm a man now!" he exclaimed as we entered the Great Hall at dinner. For someone so interested, Olivia wasn't even sitting near us.

"Soon you'll be sprouting a beard and a six pack," said Lacey.

Ethan balked. "How do you know if I don't have a six pack? You haven't seen my abdomen. Or have you?"

Lacey guffawed. "In your dreams. I just know. I mean, look how scrawny you are."

"I'm not scrawny! Astoria's scrawny!"

"Hey," I murmured halfheartedly, digging into my custard. Ethan put his hand around my bicep and I wagged him away as the Owls arrived with the mail. There was a fancy letter with my family seal on it and I ripped it open, leaving it in ripped pieces.

 _Astoria,_

 _I'm disappointed with your test grades today. Especially Potions. That is not what I expect from you. Snape has told me about your electives and you need to stop taking them until your grades go up. I will know what you're up to._

 _Your father_

I ripped up the paper and made a high-pitched hiss. How dare he only notice when something was wrong and never acknowledge the good! What's more, it was the first he had written me since term started.

Just as my friends were about to inquire me, a commotion was heard down at the Ravenclaw table. A Howler was erupting into a flurry of rage at Fay.

"You're a disgrace to the family! Your father and I are embarrassed! Are you really our daughter?!" it finished, ripping itself into infuriated ashes.

Fay raced out of the room, tears blooming in the corners of her eyes. Lacey and I rushed after her until we reached the Ravenclaw common room. A few students glanced at us in passing, but they seemed more curious about Fay crying than Slytherins being in the vicinity.

"Fay, are you all right?" I voiced the stupid question.

Fay shrugged, downplaying her emotions despite the fact tears were rolling down her face. "It's my parents. They have such high expectations. I just feel awful when I don't meet them. And even when I do, they just brush me aside like it's nothing. I don't know how to go on … like this."

"Is there anything we can do?" I asked.

Lacey Transfigured Fay a tissue. "Fay, you are the bomb. Don't let your parents tell you otherwise. Their opinions are wrong and don't matter anyway. They're arses for expecting those things and are stupid if they don't realize how smart and pretty you are."

I shook my head in exasperation. "Approval has nothing to do with love. Your parents might have a funny way of expressing it, but I'm sure they're not bad people and care about you too much, maybe." Fay nodded, but I could tell it wasn't registering.

My fancy anecdotes and misguided empathy never helped Fay. She thought I couldn't comprehend her despair, and was probably right. I just wished she would not resent me for trying.

Lacey announced that Quidditch practice was about to commence, so we gave Fay hugs and made our way outside. I almost collided with Astrix on our way to the pitch and he gave me a peeved expression when I stopped to talk with him.

"You need to go find Fay," I told him. Lacey raised her eyebrows in understanding.

"Why?" Astrix inquired, eyebrow raised.

"She's upset…."

"And how would I help?"

Lacey stamped her foot. "Stop asking so many questions! She's in the Ravenclaw common room. We couldn't make her feel better, but maybe you could give it a try."

"How would I—"

"Please just do this for her," I begged.

Astrix nodded and whistled to himself in assent as he glided away.

"He must really like Fay if he listened to two Slytherins!" exclaimed Lacey as we climbed downwards. The Slytherin practicing pitch is located in an inconvenient, marooned area to attain supreme privacy. )Even I will not reveal its exact location, but only because I don't want to get hurt. I don't actually care about the team's reputation.)

"Astrix might be annoyed by us, but I think he's that way with everyone. Our parents used to be friends before the War, actually. We even went to several elementary classes together when we were kids. I'd always ask Astrix how to do things, so we joked that he'd be a Ravenclaw and that I would be a Squib."

"You don't even seem insulted."

"Well, being a Ravenclaw was a real insult itself back then." It was that time before cliques divided us and Houses separated and differentiated us to defined status quo symbols. It was challenging to remember that imagined world. I wondered what life might be like if we all exchanged our misjudged thoughts about other Houses and just went to a regular school. Would we still have playing teams?

We reached the pitch by then, or rather some of the team members approached _us._ There was so much testosterone in a small space that I didn't know whether to faint into their arms or plug my nose against the stench.

"Hey blokes, this is my mate Astoria. You prolly don't know her. Appreciate her, though, 'cause she's here to do my homework and keep my grades up. Isn't she wonderful!"

I balanced the myriad of books towering in my arms and blushed.

The Captain of the team, Marcus Flint, eyed me thoughtfully. "How is this shy, foxy little girl in Slytherin, Blackwell?"

Miles Bletchley snorted. "Those are the ones you've gotta watch out for!"

The gorgeous one, revealing himself to be Terrence Higgs, gave me a flashing smile. "What I'd like to know is how she's related to Daphne."

I had never received so much attention, let alone from upperclassmen. I shifted my weight. "Daphne was prolly switched in St. Mungo's from the insane children's ward to wherever they keep the normal babies." How was I capable of being so witty?

It was hard to miss Draco's shock of blond hair, especially when his rude voice emerged. "We'll see who's laughing when she puts _you_ in St. Mungo's for saying that."

"It's not a big deal," said Lacey. "They already hate each other."

Draco opened his mouth as if to say something through his sneer but Flint insisted that we didn't have time for "sissy talk" and sent me up to the bleachers. Despite how nerve-wracking the interrogation was, it felt wonderful to be outside on a breezy fall night and boys acknowledging my existence.

I had to admit that testosterone on brooms was a bit more interesting than Lacey's homework. As I worked through the problems, getting most of them wrong but using a handwriting charm to format her style better, I watched the boys. The team was already full, but Lacey would always swoop in with extra help. She was one of two consistent girls on the team. She claimed she was terrible but she kept up with the older boys' violent cobbing and fascist playing style without missing a beat.

I wanted to be attracted to Flint for calling me "foxy," but it was hard to get over him being rude to my prepubescent self in Second Year. His obscenities during practice did not help his case. Terrence Higgs, however, was as attractive as ever. Tan and slim, loving the scrimmage even though Draco Malfoy had stolen his Seeker position.

I knew absolutely nothing about Quidditch, but I had heard people talking about Draco's ability to actually _catch_ the Snitch. During a regular scrimmage, one had to expect the Snitch would not take long to catch. I tested my theory by searching the fields with my eyes and in a moment spotted it despite my own astigmatism corrected by magic. It whizzed by Draco and he completely missed it. At least he looked decent searching for it. His hair that tended to be groomed had fallen from its usual position and was flopping all over the place. The boy looked normal for once. If he just shut up, he might attract a girl who wasn't Pansy.

I looked down at Lacey's papers and suddenly felt guilty for doing this behind Ethan's back. The ridiculous part was that I was doing this more to get Snape off my back than because I was sympathetic to Lacey's condition. With Terrence Higgs being a part of the package, it was good eye candy as well.

Just as I was establishing that there is nothing like a boy on a broom, someone was falling out of the sky.

Blond hair, lithe body—

It had to be Lacey, of course. The one time I came to her practice and she had to bloody die on me to make it dramatic. I rushed down the massive stands and pushed through the small crowd of sweaty boys who had gathered around her.

"How many wands am I holding up?" asked Adrian Pucey.

Marcus Flint shoved him aside. "If you're asking about your own, even I wouldn't be able to see it."

Lacey was already coming to, but the sight of her in a heap on the ground made me wrap her in a hug in front of everyone. Some of the blokes snickered but Lacey smiled at me.

"Are you feeling good enough to stand-in this weekend?" asked Marcus. I glared at him.

"I mean, I guess—I just feel concussed is all."

"What happened?" I asked. "Were you hit by the Quaffle? We don't even know what happened!"

Miles guffawed. "Seems like the Third Year faints at the sight of blood."

"I—uh—yeah, I was hit by the Quaffle," said Lacey. "I should be able to play, Marcus."

"You can't know until I bring you to Madam Pomfrey's," I admonished. "Come on, can you get up?" Lacey hung onto me as I used the small amount of muscles I had to support her upwards. She appeared to be a little dizzy but otherwise not in pain.

"Good riddance," said Draco Malfoy as I helped her away.

We took our time as we entered the hushed castle corridors and to Madam Pomfrey's room. Lacey complained the entire way, claiming it was not necessary to get fussed over a concussion. We stopped when Fred and George strolled past, dressed in their own Quidditch attire for Gryffindor practice. I took a moment to admire them while Lacey had her head between her knees.

"You need to get checked out," I told her. "You barely glanced at Fred and George when they walked past."

"Merlin, you're right."

Madam Pomfrey was calm as she did procedural tests before giving Lacey a potion to prevent brain swelling and hemorrhages. She had to rest in the vicinity for the remainder of the night but would be able to play that weekend. It was quite a relief everything had been taken care of. Pomfrey even allowed me to stay until curfew and awarded me House points for taking initiative in helping my friend. If those douche-bags only knew, they would not complain for me doting over her.

Lacey was beginning to drool as she fell asleep. As I rose to leave, she turned towards me and winced.

"The Quaffle never hit me. I didn't want to say anything while they were around, though. I hope you don't mind."

"I won't mind unless you don't tell me what really happened."

"I just—I felt this great weight being lifted off me," she said. "I felt like lightning struck me and then I landed on the ground. I prolly hit my head on the way down."

I sifted through the information in my mind about magic and then a lightbulb struck. "It was the Unbreakable Vow! Ethan … Ethan lost—"

Lacey made the moment anticlimactic by drooling all over me.

* * *

The following day, I opened the letter and examined the sprawling calligraphy, my heart jumped into my throat.

 _Astoria,_

 _Great act, huh? Let's hope Daphne isn't creepy enough to sort through your fan mail. This is how we'll talk until that dreadful day comes._

 _I'm still hoping Daph and I can get back together. Ever since I've been single, girls have been all over me. Normally, I wouldn't complain but if that isn't a reason to get back with her—well, there are a lot of others, of course._

 _But enough of that. What are your problems? Any teen angst? Don't lie to me, I was there too._

 _-Your favorite Slytherin and therefore person_

"Hurry up!" screamed Lacey. I crumpled the letter into my robes, feeling a warmth spread over my body and feeling serene with the world.

"We're getting careless," I said, huffing as I ran to keep up with her stride. "Last time we at least tricked the Prefects."

"It doesn't matter, we don't have time," said Lacey, glancing over her shoulder in paranoia. It was pitch black outside and I immediately began stepping on her heels as we stumbled toward the lake. My heart was beating with adrenaline but it had to be chilly outside. Black Lake had to be at least twenty degrees cooler than the air temperature.

Ethan was already at the docks, looking instead of miserable, sophomoric, or angry—terrified.

"What if you get hypothermia?" I blurted.

"Hand me your wands!" Ethan barked.

"Why?" asked Lacey.

"Because I said so!"

"He doesn't want us casting boils on his rump when he jumps," I explained to Lacey as she grumbled.

Ethan rolled his eyes at my phrasing and stood upright, as if waiting for us to do something.

"Turn around! I don't want you seeing my bloody front side too!"

Lacey and I snickered to ourselves after grimacing from the explicitness. I crossed my arms and looked out at Hogwarts. A light emitted from the distance, but it couldn't have been from a wand. We were safe and Ethan cleared his throat to alert that he was ready.

Lacey and I found that Ethan had moved to the end of the dock when we turned around again. His clothes were piled in a heap on the side, and Ethan stood shivering at the ledge, his back to us.

"I don't want comments," he snarled.

Neither of us could help it; no one can help looking at something when it is mentioned by someone else. In the dim lighting, his rump was still visible. Instead of being elusive or appalling, his butt was quite natural and nothing spectacular. If anything, it was less bony than expected on such a skinny body.

"Get it over with," I whispered.

Ethan shivered, cowering over the edge. He was not going to jump anytime soon.

Lacey mumbled something and leaped forward, kicking Ethan in the behind so that he catapulted into the lake. A myriad of miscellaneous occurrences happened all at once.

At around the same time, Ethan began cussing at Lacey and threatening to curse her. But a bright light flashing had distracted all of us from the initial event and to the someone who was stumbling up the hill.

I stumbled upwards, but could not see anything without the light of my wand. Lacey listened for noises beside me, our breaths shallow. I walked around the soggy grounds, my black shoes sinking into the wet earth. Ethan hollered at us from below. He was fully clothed again but sopping wet nonetheless—not to mention, livid with fury.

"You bloody good-for-nothings!"

"You're the one who took away our wands!" I yelled.

"You're the one who made me shove mine into the lake!"

Lacey charged down the hill and shoved her finger into Ethan's chest. "Astoria didn't make you do anything. You could have died if you wanted to!"

"Right now, that's looking like an enviable option," Ethan grumbled, wringing out his sleeve.

"I'm sorry," I said, tears springing to my eyes. "This has got to be the biggest mistake of my life."

"It's not like you wanted me to be a part of a porno," said Ethan. Lacey coughed.

We spent the rest of that Saturday night awaiting the imminent morning, praying the night was too dark to make the picture visible and that whoever graced themselves with taking it was a benevolent enough person to refrain from sharing it. When Sunday passed uneventfully, we all let out sighs of relief.

As I passed the Ravenclaw table Monday morning, a snippet of a conversation floated past my languid brain.

"One more reason to love Mondays," said the Ravenclaw, gagging into their porridge. I righted myself and peered over their shoulder, only to be further assured. It was not Ethan's backside they were staring at, but a lengthened assignment list. They gave me a strange look but I continued on, unbothered.

I saved my friends two seats at the Slytherin table. Ethan always waited until the last minute to roll out of bed since he did not have a makeup routine (I supposed). Lacey was having a group huddle with the Slytherin Quidditch team. They had daily inspirational quotes they roused one another with in order to prepare for the approaching match.

By the time they reached our table, breakfast was in full swing. Everyone was done procrastinating and getting ready for their first class. When Dumbledore gave us a five-minute warning, Ethan chugged down his pumpkin juice. He swore when he smeared over his robes. Lacey laughed hysterically, pointing at Ethan's now even more disheveled appearance. There was something quite endearing about it.

A quieted hush filled the Great Hall as shuffling wings filled the chambers. There were never more than a few letters delivered on Monday mornings, but for some queer reason, it seemed every owl in our entire school had something essential to deliver.

A letter fell into every student's arms. I looked at the teachers, but most of them wore stoic or surprised faces. McGonagall seemed concerned of what they might contain, but Dumbledore smiled with calmness.

Someone had gotten their letter open just as one dropped in front of me. They howled with laughter, and soon the Great Hall was filled with guffaws.

Lacey ripped open her letter, revealing Ethan's worst nightmare. There, in a moving picture, was Ethan jumping into Black Lake. All one could see was his butt, although it was only a matter of time before someone performed a restoration spell.

No one seemed to notice the only person in the room not laughing. I admit shamefully that Lacey and I had fallen out of our seats and were hunched on the floor, gasping for air. I could not breathe and thought I was going to die.

Draco was the first person capable of speech at our table. He pressed on through fits of snickering, "That looks … like Slytherin arse … which narrows it down … somewhat…."

Before any of the teachers could reinforce discipline, we looked up to find the ceiling bewitched as Ethan's butt.

* * *

 **A/N:** I am sooo sorry that this took so long. I kid you not, I have not had any time to write whatsoever. I also apologize for the short and strange chapter, but I wanted to post something. I hope you enjoyed. Feel free to ask any questions about the symbolism and the purpose of those snipes. ;)

I do plan on editing this chapter, so check within a few days for a longer update. I wanted to post something before October, so even if it sucks and isn't finished, at least it's something. Expect a much faster update for the following chapter as well. **Hope everyone is doing well and have a spectacular day!**


	12. Halloween

The bell dismissed us, but the teachers kept us locked inside the Great Hall until they confiscated each photo from every student. Ethan was less pallid on our way to first period, but soon there were duplicates being delivered from House Elves on every floor. Some students were bartering with them to disguise the pictures from the teachers with their unique glamor.

By this time, Lacey and I had stopped laughing and were concerned with Ethan's wellbeing. He was unable to skip class at the risk of being discovered but looked on the verge of tears.

Lacey cleared her throat. "In your defense," she whispered, "it doesn't look _bad_." Ethan grated his teeth in response.

"One butt for one Galleon! Surprise your mum with an early Christmas present!" Fred and George chorused, advertising pictures of the butt. It was the first business initiation they had done with Slytherins.

Lacey shuffled around in her robe pocket but then stopped when Ethan put his wand to her throat. She laughed nervously as he slowly removed it as she replaced her hands by her sides.

"For the photo album?"

The teachers were in a terrible mood. They were less offended that a student's dignity had been compromised than the culprit had gotten away with such a heinous crime. It was a miracle Ethan made it to lunch unscathed. Lacey and I crowded the table with miscellaneous parchments and books that had fallen from our bags, digging into our food like hungry animals, while Ethan remained glued to his seat with a constipated expression on his face.

"This is really good," I noted at the pumpkin cream dessert, a bit of whipped cream spraying from my lips. Ethan flinched.

Lacey snorted, wiping the whipped cream off my mouth with a strawberry and then feeding it to me. Ethan rolled his eyes but then paled when Olivia sat down beside him. She was still fickle depending on who she was acquaintances with, but she seemed to be in an Ethan Travers mood today.

"So, who do you think it is?" she asked us, leaning over Ethan to address Lacey and I. Ethan swallowed and inched his chair closer to mine.

"Someone ugly, I presume," I said.

Olivia laughed politely into her hand. "If an arse tells about the rest of the person, that is."

"I'd think it would," said Lacey.

Ethan's fork shook with fury as he dug into his mashed potatoes.

"Ethan, Malfoy is having a party in—well—" Olivia glanced at us—"I can't exactly say, but are you interested in going with me?"

"We have Muggle Music tonight," I told Olivia.

"You know, Olivia," Ethan cut me off, "I would _love_ to go to the party. We can meet in the common room after dinner."

Olivia smiled and waved to us in farewell before skipping off to gossip with Niles and his cronies. I glowered at my plate, suddenly not feeling the pumpkin. Despite being rude to Ethan, Muggle Music was a special bond we shared together and his pride and stupid hormones took it away from me.

"I hate classical anyway," Ethan stated before leaving to wherever he didn't say he was going.

"I'm so excited for tonight," said Lacey in between bites.

"Why?" I asked. "You hate Quidditch."

"Well … everyone on the team was invited to the party."

"Are you bloody kidding me?!"

"Don't worry. It's Halloween, so they decided to make it more of a Masquerade. You can still get in. Do you want me to tell you where it is and the password?"

"No. I don't want to be a part of a stupid party with stupid Slytherins. I'll just go to my meeting with Snape, listen to classical music I've played on the piano my whole life and still don't like, and go to bed."

"You're meeting with Snape tonight?" Lacey gasped.

I looked around me. "You've _got_ to be more subtle."

"Oh please, the worst anyone will think is that he's your vampire pimp."

I was stuck between laughter and wringing her neck. Rolling my eyes, I stuck my earphones in and began to listen to the folder Ethan labeled "Classical Piano that doesn't Suck":

"Moonlight Sonata" by Beethoven

"Nocturne in E Flat Major" by Chopin

"Fur Elise" by Beethoven

"Rondo Alla Turca" by Mozart

"The Minute Waltz" by Chopin

"Canon in D" by Pachelbel

"Prelude in C" by Bach

"Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2" by Liszt

* * *

I took a few moments of mental preparation before knocking on the brass of Snape's classroom door. It was flung open to bid me entrance with a flick of his wand. When I entered, he was poured over potions that smelled suspicious. For once, it felt I could glimpse into the man's soul—and he looked terrified.

When he saw me peering silently over him, Snape altered his persona and straightened his back.

"Miss Greengrass, you will not be attending _Muggle_ Music tonight."

"But—"

"Instead, you will be attending a party I assume you haven't been invited to."

I balked. " _That_ party? What business would you—"

"I am _getting_ to that. Your purpose at the party will be to blend in and not attract any attention. It has entered my knowledge that Miss Blackwell is also attending. Despite what you have told her, you're not to reveal yourself to her."

Did Snape somehow know I had told Lacey about our meetings? Preferring not to risk anything on the matter, I remained silent.

"Instead, you are to perform the Masque spell and to drink this potion so that under no circumstances you are discovered. You can find it in the library. Since your skills are presumed to be below average, you should get by fine with the potion as an extra precaution. You're then to dress in some—" he looked over my drab robes "— _suitable_ robes. I expect your parents haven't left you as poor as you dress."

Usually when Snape insulted me, I wanted to crawl into a fetal position. But now it was just droll and ridiculous.

"I shouldn't have to warn you, but plan to remain sober at the party so you can observe each and every detail of your fellow Slytherins. With the hybrid potion I have made, enchantments should be lifted for you to see everyone but still remain incognito yourself. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes, actually," I said. "What's the point of all this?"

Snape got close to my face and it was not by any means amorous. "If you are a Slytherin, you will know." He sneered as he detracted his face and flourished to his desk to retrieve an invisible bag. He stuck the putrid potion inside and handed it to me. I turned my nose up and waited for Snape to inform me where this party was located.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked. "The party starts at seven!"

I shuffled my feet. "I don't know where the party is, Professor."

"I knew you weren't popular, Greengrass, but I didn't think you were unpopular in your own House." He sighed, scribbled a few notes onto a piece of parchment, and handed them to me. I finally realized fully that this deal between student and professor could get me expelled and Snape fired. The maelstrom of illegal happenings beginning to draw between my family and myself made me shiver.

I began to close the door, feeling a sense of dread wash over me. Snape delayed its closing for a moment.

"And Miss Greengrass? Don't mess this up."

The door slammed in my face, but not before I saw a hint of a smile on Professor Snape's face.

I rushed to the library, grasping the heavy potion in my hands and refusing to even put it in my bag. When I reached the disguising spells section, I became so overwhelmed with the variety of books that my lymphs became clammy and I felt queasy. This was how I felt before the performance at the Yule Ball last year. Perhaps this was hyperventilation?

"What's got your wand in a knot?" asked a familiar, irritated voice.

It was Astrix. "I can't find a book on Masque spells," I told him.

He sighed, trailing his fingers along the dusty volumes. "It's like being kids again, isn't it? Me helping you get by. Will I have to perform the spell as well?"

"Shut up," I replied, "and probably."

With dexterous fingers, Astix found the book and flipped to the page before shoving it in my direction. He pointed at the blocked text with his index finger.

The Latin made my head hurt and I growled with frustration.

"Want me to do it?" asked Astrix.

"Sure, but you can't tell my father."

Astrix laughed, remembering my father from past family gatherings in which the Greengrasses and Akrons managed to tolerate each other. In a voice sounding more serpentine than like a lion, Astrix whispered the spell. I felt my face transform to fit the molding of a mask. My fingers skidded over features that were hard contours and nothing like my own soft face. Refusing to perform a gilded reflection spell, I shallowly hoped its appearance was acceptable.

Astrix confirmed my fears. "You look ridiculous."

"I s'pose it doesn't matter."

"What do you need this for, anyway?"

I stood up. "Thanks, Astrix. Let's just keep this between us."

"Greengrass, answer my question! You can't do this when I just did you a favor!"

"What are you, a Slytherin? Please don't tell anyone, Astrix. I'll even pay you. Remind me later! See you around."

Almost tripping over my own feet, I headed back to the common room. The dungeons were not as quiet as during Quidditch matches, but close. A few anonymous Slytherins even I did not know remained uninvited to the party. Millicent Bulstrode and the Carrow twins were the only ones I recognized. There were likely others around my position in the popularity totem pole who were hiding in some abandoned part of the castle. If it was not for Snape, I would be one of them.

Seeing Lacey's makeup strewn around her dressing table gave me an eerie feeling as I shuffled through my closet. Her presence was here and she could arrive any minute. Even though I knew this would never happen, a part of me was on high alert.

Despite what Snape had assumed, most of my dress robes were not tasteful or expensive. I was not a fan of shopping and my mum could not pick selections up without me anymore. I had a black dress from First Year, the one I despised from the Yule Ball, and a plain white one with a black belt around it. Wrinkling my nose, I decided on my formfitting skirt and a lacy black top. Confused on how no one would recognize my clothing, I hoped the potion would clear everything obscure up.

Sitting on my bed, I plugged my nose and gulped down the potion with a water spell to dilute the putrid taste. A green stain soon marred the corner of my skirt. Gagging and spitting a bit up, I felt my body transform further. My hair turned into voluminous, ginger curls, my body taller and having more curves, and my skirt became lacy and my shirt became flowy.

Who in Merlin's name did Snape turn me into?

Wobbling around in my new body, I froze when I saw myself in the mirror. It read: _You have until midnight._

I could not help but laugh at my face. The mask did look quite ridiculous. Bracing myself for Snape's instructions, I read the directions he had scribbled out for me:

 _Leave grounds to Hogsmeade_

 _Go to Hog's Head_

 _Go through the portrait with the painting of the girl and follow the tunnel to the room_

 _When it's time to leave, you'll be on the seventh floor of Hogwarts_

 _Mudblood_

"What the hell?" I said to myself, squinting at the word "Mudblood." I pulled on a sweater and began to make my way outside. It was already dark in the castle and the corridors were quiet due to the dinner being held in the Great Hall. I wondered how Dumbledore was oblivious to the absence of Slytherins. Either there was a cute set of changelings at our table or the man was getting old.

I passed the Muggle Music room on the first floor, catching a few measures of symphonic music in my walk by. Everyone looked particularly bored, but I would have given anything to be in that room with Ethan instead of attending this stupid Masquerade.

What would it even be like? Snape mentioned alcohol, but would it really be possible to avoid the approach of boys with this new body? How creepy would it be to observe my friends without them even realizing it? Not to mention, my mission to observe what was happening was not specific by any means.

The air had an awakening, crisp feel to it as I stepped onto the sidewalks in the grounds. Following the directions with a bit of skepticism, I made as if going to Hogsmeade. My stomach twinged, nervous at the night prowlers which would be lurking. Despite being taller and having a bit more weight on me, I was still a woman alone at twilight.

The gates gave fine. Either the enchantments had been lifted or assuming another identity disengaged them. Not caring much whichever way, I kept to the sidewalk and my head up with my wand lighted as I made my way to the Hog's Head. If Daphne hadn't been so thrilled with its presence, it would have been impossible for me to find.

There were a few students gathered in front of the bar. An older man reminding me of Dumbledore himself regarded each one with a grim face, assessing the fact all of them were wearing masks and asking to be admitted into a bar. I waited in line politely, not wanting to attract attention.

"We just want to use the bloody portrait!" I froze at Blaise's voice coming from right in front of me. I had almost forgotten about his letter and promise to correspond with me.

"Then I definitely won't let you in!" said the man. " _No one_ goes near her."

"It's all right, Aberforth," said a delicate voice. "They just want to go to a party. I love parties and you wouldn't want me to not have fun too, would you?"

The man called Aberforth sighed, influenced by the strange girl in the portrait. "Be quick. The last time I let minors in I got a recall on everything we sell here besides the hog."

Everyone shot into the Hog's Head like a catapulted cannonball. My new body got jostled among other limbs as I shoved my way into the direction of the portrait. Why was I even doing this, again? Because my idiot professor told me to? Before I could doubt myself, I followed my housemates into the tunnel, seeing a dark abyss at the end to wherever it led.

Then I stumbled into a gargantuan room.

It was decorated with typical Halloween items, but quite different than the take a child's party might be. Fake spiders were enchanted to move their webs up and down from the vaulted ceiling. Blood dripped down the walls. Then I noticed the piano playing tunes where I had left it, playing a neutral tune. Wow, Malfoy would be stupid enough to circumnavigate around the grounds when the room the party was located in was right in the school.

The Quidditch team rode their brooms across the room, almost beheading several students in the process. Everything was decked in black and each game situated around the room had a gothic innuendo. Most people wore masks, but a few were in childish costumes.

Someone smoothed their hand through my hair and down my back. "Password?" asked Draco Malfoy. His hair stuck out from his mask and his Prefect badge was still pinned to his chest. Noticing this while my vision went tunnel in panic, I wracked my brains. Why hadn't Snape told me?!—

"Mudblood," I said for the first time in my life. It didn't feel much different from any other word I had uttered.

Draco looked my new body over in a way Pansy would not approve of before moving on. Where was the fellow Prefect, anyway? I watched him out of the corner of my eye, feeling violated and like I was upside down.

Lacey laughed right in my ear.

I jumped, wondering how I managed to blow my cover over nothing. But Lacey was laughing with her Quidditch mates and was just loud (I should have known). A flare of jealousy rose in my veins when she and the boys hung onto each other as if they were friends. Here she was flirting with boys and making new friends without me. What a Slytherin.

I moved on, figuring Snape could care less what Lacey was up to. A few older Slytherins were playing a drinking game in a corner and abusing some other substance Daphne had mentioned in fits of giggles upon me discovering some in her room. Wondering how Daphne herself was fairing in the presence of alcohol, I made a decision to watch over her.

It was easy to find her: she was with Tracey in a corner. She seemed like a basic, pretty girl who was too snooty to participate in illegal Halloween party events. It was hard to believe it, but whatever happened to Daphne that night had made her, well, boring. Without trying to be too perverted, I smiled at her. I was never so happy to see someone basic in my life.

Crabbe and Goyle already were the opposite of sober. The Weird Sisters were blaring in a corner and they had loosened their robes and were straddling a pole meant for decoration. I shielded my eyes, scarred for the remainder of my life. Making my way over to the food, I noted with pleasure that a few Ravenclaws managed to be invited into the party (or perhaps sneaked in, knowing their brains). At least we weren't totally segregated.

Turning my attention back towards the food, my eyes became saucers. There were delectable snacks turned into the ghoulish creatures: spiders, snakes, broomsticks, ghosts, skeletons, the devil, etc.

I piled one of everything onto my plate and began digging in. This new body could eat more, but it would feel it more on the hips, too. It would be an interesting first experience. Savoring each bite, I observed all I could from the people Snape typically asked about. Observing from a distance was still observing.

Niles and Malcolm appeared to be enjoying themselves. Without Olivia to cause hormonal drama, they were eating and laughing at whatever happened to be funny. It was strange to see Niles occupied with nothing or nothing at someone else's expense. Harper, on the other hand, wasn't so happy. He zipped around with his fellow Quidditch team mates but kept sneaking glances at them.

I wiped what little mouth was not covered by the mask with my napkin and sighed. There would be nothing to report to Snape and he would yell at me. With Blaise and Daphne broken up, the entire group became uninteresting.

It seems I spoke too soon. There was a great clamor in the middle of the room until everyone ushered one another to be quiet.

"….and whoever wins gets this diadem!" Someone held up what could not be anything other than Rowena Ravenclaw's "lost diadem."

People began whispering to one another excitedly. The Ravenclaws started honing spells and magic tricks that could get the attention of winning the contest. Some were impressive charms I never would have thought of, let alone do.

Snape mentioned that he wanted me to do something besides observe my House. Winning the contest was the only other option thus far. But Snape had also commented that my magic skills were less than average (which was debatable). Was the contest limited to magic?

Feeling a surge of inspiration, I made my way towards the piano and began plunking out a few chords it had taught me. The background noise of everyone competing and arguing gave me a sense of stability in my mind. Lacey was flying around on her broom still and Ethan was nowhere to be seen. Besides, neither of them would recognize my new voice. It had developed drastically from being with the sirens.

After making sure my I was warmed up, I began to play a song on the iPod. It was called "I Can't Help Falling in Love" by the American Muggle Elvis Presley. With just my voice and the piano, it was raw and beautiful music.

"Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you

Shall I stay

Would it be a sin?

If I can't help falling in love with you."

The room was totally silent now. I changed keys, my voice escalated and reverberating against the high walls.

"Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Take my hand,

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Take my hand,

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you

For I can't help falling in love with you."

I trembled slightly from adrenaline. I suppose it didn't matter which body it was when I was expressing my music through it. Standing up and hearing the seat screech on the floor, everyone raised the arms and applauded. It seemed as if an entire congregation stood up.

There was a tap on my shoulder.

Draco handed the diadem to me, studying me with his sharp gray eyes and a quizzical expression on his face. I smiled. I didn't care that I got a bloody crown or that Draco Malfoy was bowing down to me, but that everyone gave back to me after I had given them my music. For once, people who had given me a cold eye or hard mouth looked at me as if I was a new person.

Then I remembered I was wearing a mask and in a body that wasn't mine.

I shoved the diadem into the piano and murmured a lightening spell, pushing it into the wall, where it vanished. I rushed out of the room and into the seventh floor corridor.

I ripped my mask off and rubbed my eyes. How could I ever express my voice while remaining true to myself? No one would ever support a musician in the family, let alone one who sang Muggle songs.

I froze in front of the common room.

Ethan and Olivia were rolling on the couch in each other's arms.

There was a SNAP and a **_CRACK_** in my chest cavity.

I raced back to my dormitory, feeling my body dissolve into the person I could never be without pretensions.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm so glad I'm done with this ... stage in my life. XD It's definitely not fun to go back, even if it's just writing.

I am so sorry that's it's taken me so long to update. I honestly haven't had time at all to actually sit down and write. The result is me fitting it in now and being pressed for time and giving my one and a half readers an awful chapter length and quality-wise. But it's better than nothing! :) I don't know when I can update again, but I hope it will be within the month. Either way, I PROMISE I'll have time during the summer to dedicate some good writing to this story. Chapters will be proofread and edited for errors (I know there are some plot ones) and spruced up and ready to go for some grown-up maturity these characters need to get (like now, please, it's so painful). Hey, at least it's accurate.

Let me know what you think in a review!

 **HAPPY NEW YEAR! 20163** I'm not idealistic but I've got a great feeling for this one. It all starts with being happy with yourself. :)


	13. The Blast

There was a lot of hullabaloo for breakfast on a Monday morning. Instead of sleepwalking to our seats, Houses mingled with one another, chatting about the latest news. Something was going on, and I wasn't so keen to reveal its mystery because of the disgusted expression on everyone's faces.

"Should I even ask?"

Lacey shook her head. "Umbridge was named High Inquisitor."

My father often prattled about Ministry titles and how the more fascist the role's title was, the more power one's role was given. Umbridge being given this role meant that she would be allowed to inspect anything happening at Hogwarts. She might not be able to directly change the inner workings of the school, but if she filed a complaint to the Ministry, they could even tell Dumbledore what to do. Under the right circumstances, discipline could make Hogwarts a better and safer place. But it was obvious Umbridge had already attempting to squander her own subject's studies too far.

Ethan walked into breakfast and sat down, holding a fork in his hand like he was about to commit manslaughter. There were dark circles underneath his eyes and his hair was not just windswept, but nearing bedhead. After Olivia, he was no longer the naïve (for a Slytherin), joyful person we used to know.

I hated myself internally when I realized I was happy he seemed upset. I mean, it could be that Olivia and he were over.

"Well," Ethan said, "I better enjoy this frittata while I can, seeing as Umbridge will take it away from me soon."

"Why would Umbridge take away your frittata?" I asked him, testing to see if he was still angry with me from Friday.

"A frittata is a source of joy. Umbridge is turning us Communist, and Communists don't like joy."

"What's a Communist?" asked Lacey.

Ethan sighed instead of answering the question, setting his eyes on Olivia, who was laughing hysterically from the opposite end of the table. She was sprawled across Niles's lap and spilled pumpkin juice over the tablecloth. It was strange behavior coming from someone who was proper and at least reserved outwardly.

"What's wrong?" Lacey asked him. I scowled.

"Olivia's ignoring me," said Ethan. Bummer, there was still hope.

"Why?" I said. _Are you not a good enough kisser?_

"I don't know!" Ethan gesticulated, almost spilling his own juice in the process. "We had a great time Friday. I mean a _really_ great time." He blushed red and I blushed green. "Then when I asked her to sneak to Hogsmeade with me Saturday, she put me off and said she had plans with _him!_ I tried talking to her Sunday but we couldn't get a moment alone. She was with Niles and I'm pretty sure she pretended not to know me."

"She's a two-faced bitch, Ethan. Can't you see that?" I blurted.

At first I thought Ethan might lash out at me, but then his face turned slack. "I know. You're right, Astoria. How was Muggle Music Friday?"

I panicked for a moment, but then decided I would just make him feel guilty. "I didn't go because you weren't there. I just stayed in."

"You should've went to the party!" Lacey exclaimed. "It was so much fun." Ethan rolled his eyes.

"All you did was fly a broom around. Soon you'll grow balls and turn into those blokes who go around saying, 'Quidditch is life!'"

The silverware jiggled as a result of my laughter and Lacey's reddening fury. "Well, at least I _made_ the team!"

"You don't play in the games though, Lace," I said as gently as possible.

"They're called _matches._ "

Ethan began eating and I suddenly felt happy again. "The whole Slytherin team is sexist, anyway. If you were sorted into Gryffindor, you'd be in Potter's place by now."

It was Lacey's turn to laugh. "No, I really suck!"

I jumped when I felt a small hand flutter above my shoulder. Lacey and I turned to see Flitwick standing by us. We thought it was a mistake until he remembered our names.

"Miss Blackwell and Greengrass, expect to be at practice right after school today. It will also be in the Great Hall instead of the Room of Requirement. Professor … Umbridge will be inspecting the choir's … musical abilities."

Once we nodded and assured him we would be there, he scuttled over to inform other students.

"You're doomed," said Ethan once Flitwick was out of earshot. "Frog Choir sucks. I wouldn't be surprised if Umbridge makes this your last rehearsal."

I sighed. "Come on, it's time to get to class."

* * *

On my way to Trelawney's, I felt a more sinister hand lay upon my shoulder.

Snape pulled me into a corner and I couldn't help but feel like I was about to be molested by a Dark Wizard. I tried to regard him professionally even as the blood drained from my face.

"Did you get the diadem?" he hissed.

I nodded.

"Where is it?"

"Inside the piano in the Room of Requirement."

"I suggest, Greengrass, that you bury it somewhere better if you even wish to play a happy song again." I nodded fervently despite not having a clue to what Snape meant by his comment. Why was this diadem so essential to whatever shenanigans he was procuring?

Snape moved aside as to let me through. But as I moved to make a go out of there, he cleared his throat. "It was a miracle you didn't mess that up, Greengrass."

I tried to smile, figuring this was his backwards version of a compliment. What a passive-aggressive brute.

After I reached Trelawney's two minutes late and no one noticed, the morning began to catch up with me. Ethan was miserable about Olivia, Lacey had her own hobby, and I was going nowhere except down. I gazed into my teacup and saw nothing exciting in the future for myself. I only saw the past. It felt wonderful Friday to be in an unidentifiable body and to share my music with everyone. No one judged me besides loving what I did.

I squirmed, feeling uncomfortable as I remembered the way Draco Malfoy had looked at me that night. It felt forbidden and lustful. But perhaps if I always appeared like I did that night, a lot of people might look twice.

I was pulled out of my pensive thoughts as the growing argument in the classroom became louder. Trelawney was prophesizing about the upcoming Quidditch match to engage the students. It was a mistake, however, considering the class consisted of the two rival teams.

"We're going to win!" Astrix whined. "We pulled an all-nighter practicing Saturday."

"You did not!" Malcolm retorted.

"How would you know?"

"I was watching!"

Astrix's friend laughed. "Looks like Ilminster likes Gryffindor arses too!" I snorted into my hand; no one could ever catch me laughing at a Gryffindor joke.

"It's called a game tactic, you dense prick," retorted Niles, inspecting his immaculate nails. Malcolm straightened in his seat.

"Enough!" barked Trelawney. "This class has to shape up. Professor Umbridge will be looking in on us every once in a while, and we must start taking this seriously."

Cue snorts from everyone.

"I'm not even playing," Lacey told me, continuing on the Quidditch topic. "And are practices are six hours after classes this week. Malfoy will kill me when I miss it for Frog Choir today!"

"Then don't miss it," I said begrudgingly. "I wouldn't want to be on the opposite end of his wand."

"He's just compensating for something. I'll survive, I s'pose," Lacey said with a wave of her hand. "Speaking of, can I borrow your Potions essay for tomorrow? I'll paraphrase, of course."

I sighed. "Yeah, whatever."

"And dumb it down. Your essays are always too good for my vocabulary." I didn't argue with her; it was one of the few aptitudes I had for Potions, so I reveled whenever we had the opportunity to write an essay.

Trelawney shouted for the class to read their leaves and turn in our conclusions on a slip of paper. "Will you come to our match?" Lacey whispered through an inspection of her tea leaves.

"I guess."

"It's actually really fun. I know you don't like the sport, but the crowd can get you really excited. I can paint your face before the match if you want!"

I smiled. "Sure, that sounds fun."

"Girls," Trelawney scolded. "My predictions are telling me that you're talking instead of doing your work."

"No shit," mumbled Astrix. This time, I didn't try to hide my laughter.

I caught Ethan sulking in the hall after class. He and Tim Morcott were going over some Arithmacy equation because Merlin forbid either of them receive less than a 95 in the class. When I approached, Tim scowled at me and meandered away.

"I'm surprised he talks to you," I told Ethan. He shrugged.

"He needs help in the class. I think he's coming out of his shell."

"Tim _Morcott_ needs help?!"

"He's not good at math. He's even worse at it than trying to like people."

I smiled, at least satisfied Ethan could crack a joke. As we passed the Muggle room, I noticed Professor Burbage summoning us to come inside. As we ventured in, a part of me hoped none of my fellow Slytherins witnessed me entering.

"I hope you two haven't quit the Muggle Music elective," she said. I never noticed before, but she was quite pretty when she smiled. "I missed you Saturday. You both had such interesting things to say about the Beatles."

"Don't worry, Professor," said Ethan, "we were at a Halloween party." He winked at me. "I think Astoria regrets going, anyhow." I blushed.

"Well, I'm so relieved! You better not have a party this weekend because we're doing Broadway."

"We'll be two hours early!" Ethan exclaimed while jumping up and down. He looked a bit gay; in the best way, really.

"I'm glad to have students who are this passionate about Muggle subjects. Here, have a candy to get you through the day." She gave us two music-note shaped chocolates and bid us goodbye.

I unwrapped the chocolate and bit into it. Ethan put his away and regarded me.

"What?" I asked, my mouth completely full.

Ethan just smiled. He was a bit sad, but I still treasured the moment.

"You still should've went," he said. "You play classical piano all that time. I feel like I kept you from doing something you love."

"It's fine, Ethan. Calm down. It was my decision."

"I shouldn't've put Olivia over something I promised I'd do with you without asking if it was all right. And now look at me. She turned out to be a fake and I could've lost you over it."

"It's a date," I said. "Muggle Music is every week." He seemed skeptical. "Well, now you know better," I added.

We stopped in front of the Great Hall because Ethan seemed overcome with something. "I can't do this. Wanna go to the common room?"

I nodded, figuring Lacey would manage fine with her Quidditch and Ravenclaw friends.

When we reached the Dungeons, it got awkward fast. It struck me that I had never been alone with Ethan much and Lacey was always our icebreaker. The dungeons also had a grim atmosphere that made me want to fling open the curtains and cast a _Lumos_ spell.

"Do you mind if I tell you what happened at the party?" asked Ethan.

"Of course not."

"Well, it's sort of weird since you're a girl, but it's not as if I've got anyone else to tell." He took a breath and so did my ego. "Well, it started out we had a great time. We played games and ate a great dinner. Half of the people didn't even know who I was, or else didn't want to believe it. For once, my own House actually accepted me.

"I'm pretty sure the punch was spiked." Ethan gave a nervous laugh. "I'm not sure if it was that or she was convincing. But somehow we ended up making out. Ooh, it was great."

"Why are you telling me this again?" I asked sharply.

Ethan cringed. "Well, after uh … that, we came back to the common room. And before you ask, no—she didn't seduce me or anything gross like that. But she was acting weird. Everything was this crazy shade of green and the room was even darker than normal. No one was here.

"She took off her mask and then mine. I thought she wanted to kiss me but she just got up real close and stared. Then she said, 'It's too bad. I really like you.' Then she went up to bed.

"What the bloody hell does that mean, Astoria?"

I tried not to let it all out at once. "I think you should forget about her, Ethan. She hasn't treated you right and she won't ever be confident with herself to."

"It's because I'm a Mudblood, isn't it?"

"Don't ever say that about yourself," I snapped.

"You don't understand, Astoria."

I was offended. "I understand perfectly. I don't need to be in a 'relationship' to know she's not worth how valuable you are. I think it's _you_ who doesn't understand. You just don't want to hear the truth."

At first, Ethan looked so infuriated I thought he might draw his wand at me, but then he came to this evident realization and let out his fury like a balloon letting out air.

"How are you, anyway? I never ask about how you're doing and you're the one with actual problems."

"We all have problems…. I take it you're referring to my parents?"

He nodded.

"I don't really like to think about it. I'm barely even at home so most of the time I just block it out of my mind. Thank Merlin for Hogwarts. I'd go crazy if I had to be in that house with them fighting half the time and stepping over each other's toes the other. Why can't they just get a divorce? Why would they stay together when it's clear they aren't in love anymore and are just making everyone's life a living hell?"

"Olivia is complicated enough. I can't imagine what it would be like with your own spouse, with kids and jobs. Not to mention, everyone else around you. It's much easier to understand why people stay together than why they break apart."

* * *

I was so keen on responding to Blaise that I decided to write him back in Potions. All we were doing was listening to Snape drone on about not burning ourselves on the chemicals, is all.

 _Blaise,_

 _Sorry it's taken me so long to respond. It's been busy._

 _I haven't even had time to talk to Daphne. Maybe later, if I get the chance, I can beat it out of her. Just kidding … sort of._

 _Of course I have problems. Lots of teen angst. But I'd prefer not to discuss them and work on Mission Umbridge to get her out of this school. Any ideas?_

 _-Stor_

I almost jumped out of my seat.

"Mission _Umbridge_?" Snape whispered right into my ear. Before it could even register that Snape had not only caught me not paying attention had he addressed the class at the front of the room.

"Looks like you're his new favorite," said Astrix from the Gryffindor table.

"Are you kidding me?" I replied underneath my breath. Neither Snape or the Slytherins could know I was talking to him. "Snape hates me."

Astrix didn't respond, but I could feel the skepticism in the air. Snape didn't like me, though; he just hated Umbridge more.

"What are you, a bunch of First Years? Get your supplies and start working!" barked Snape.

While the entire class took this as an incentive to get their lab supplies and start preparing their cauldrons, I sat and waited. Lacey rolled her eyes at me while slowly rising from her seat.

"What, I'm gonna prepare the cauldron."

"But you can't. You always turn the heat on too high all at once."

As we were in the midst of arguing, Ethan ran over to us, slamming down several beakers and herbs onto the table. Snape gave him a lethal look when a petri dish almost shattered.

"I'll work with you guys," Ethan said.

"Who said we'll take you back that easily?" Lacey crossed her arms.

"Do you want to pass or not?"

Lacey's mouth shut, but mine flew open like a faucet. "We passed just fine before."

"With my help!" Lacey exclaimed.

Ethan chucked, pouring in some water to get the cauldron boiling. He ordered me to be the timekeeper, write our procedure, and record the data we would collect. Lacey would measure and pour the ingredients into the cauldron and make sure they were cooked correctly. Ethan did the mathematical measurements necessary at this unfortunate level of Potions and the prep work for everything involved for it to be sufficient.

It was gruesome work, but I actually ended up understanding the lab and what we were trying to accomplish. I had forgotten what a good partner Ethan was. When we bottled the Potion inside test tubes, I felt a good fatigue come over me instead of what usually was an exasperated one. Snape seemed disappointed we had done successful work and finished first without any problems. But he couldn't make a comment because we were Slytherins who followed every instruction he had laid out for us.

Why was the man so damn complicated?

"Why is the man so damn complicated?" Ethan asked on our way inside DADA.

"I will not tolerate swearing in my classroom, Travers," said Umbridge. "If you don't cut it out I'll have to issue you another detention." She gave him a saccharine smile.

"But I technically wasn't in here when I said it," he whispered underneath his breath.

Instead of doing classwork, Umbridge was prompted to unhinge the inner workings of her newest title of High Inquisitor.

"The Minister of Magic himself has given me this title. It is not to be taken lightly. I'm going to use this to my advantage in helping Hogwarts become a better and safer school for students. Several new reforms will be made, starting with Educational Decree number twenty-four. No students, under any circumstances, will be allowed to form any organization of any category outside school. Any activities you do are limited to official school clubs."

Tim Morcott raised his hand. "Does this include chess club?"

"Dear boy, it soon won't."

Niles raised his hand and Umbridge called on him, smiling. "Professor Umbridge, I agree with what you're doing. The reason why no one is safe is because students feel like they can do whatever they want."

"What the bloody hell is he doing?" Ethan whispered. The hairs around my temple tickled.

I shrugged, disinterested for once.

"Why is it so important that she likes him?"

"His Father?" I asked.

Ethan shook his head.

A few Gryffindors stood up and my House consecutively rolled our eyes because the martyrs were about to release their feelings. But when the Carrows, Olivia, and Lee all stood up, I felt it would be most honest to join them.

"Why don't you teach us real magic, then? Maybe these clubs wouldn't be formed if you did," a Gryffindor said.

"Sit down, sit down! I won't hear this outrageous talk from mere students!"

The Gryffindors continued arguing with her while we just stood there like vegetables. "Come on, Lacey, stand up," I growled. The girl was paler than a ghost.

"I have a match. I can't risk it."

"That's not being courageous."

Ethan slouched in his seat. "No, it's being smart. You don't want a detention from her." I jumped when I heard Umbridge slam her book down as she regarded the Gryffindors.

"YOU ALL HAVE DETENTIONS!" Umbridge shrieked, sending a thousand papers birds pecking at our skin. A thunderstorm rattled above our heads. "I WILL NOT TOLERATE DISOBEDIENCE!"

"I didn't even do anything!" I whined for the thousandth time after school.

"You rebelled and that was enough," said Ethan. "That'll teach you."

"What will she make me do?" Before Ethan could answer, however, a letter was dropped to me from Boomerang.

 _Astoria,_

 _I have already heard of your detention. I have written Umbridge and she has cancelled it. She believes you only stood up because you were afraid she would take away your piano lessons. Do not compromise this assumption._

 _Your mother and I are very disappointed in you. We are still discussing it, but I imagine I will convince your mother that you should be rightly punished upon your return home._

 _Your father_

"Then I just won't go back!" I said hysterically.

"Calm down, this is a good thing," said Ethan, steadying me. Lacey nodded her head in agreement. Ethan grabbed my flailing wrists and looked me in the eyes. I felt as if we were the only ones in the hectic corridor and found it a struggle to look him squarely in the eyes.

"This could've gone so much worse. This won't be on your record now and you can just forget about it. Now go sing and have some fun." He patted me on the back and Lacey and I went off to the Great Hall for Frog Choir.

Since our last rehearsal, we had only worked on "Edelweiss" and the Italian aria. Since most of the students were failing in the sightreading portion of Frog Choir, this would not be a good selection to use for Umbridge. However, we did convince Flitwick to teach us the companion piece to "Edelweiss," "The Sound of Music," which we happened to do well. Flitwick decided we would sing this for Umbridge because it demonstrated multi-chordal harmonies and looked like we actually knew what we were doing.

After warming up, we went over the song a few times. When the altos still couldn't decipher their part, Flitwick plunked it on the piano so hard a string may have broken. It was gorgeous and by the time Umbridge stalked inside, the space felt so safe that we just sang:

"The hills are alive with the sound of music

With songs they have sung for a thousand years

The hills fill my heart with the sound of music

My heart wants to sing every song it hears

My heart wants to beat like the wings of the birds

That rise from the lake to the trees

My heart wants to sigh like a chime

That flies from a church on a breeze."

I tried to drown out Luna's wailing, and seemed to be succeeding. I watched Umbridge pace back and forth. Taking a deep breath, I railed on:

"To laugh like a brook when it trips

And falls over stones on its way

To sing through the night

Like a lark who is learning to pray

I go to the hills when my heart is lonely

I know I will hear what I've heard before

My heart will be blessed with the sound of music

And I'll sing once more."

You can forget someone is in the room when you sing a pretty song, sometimes. When we looked up and found Umbridge there, we were astounded such an awful woman had looked in on us. Flitwick quivered. Umbridge regarded us with her judgmental clipboard, writing notes and eyeing our costume attire.

She stepped in front of me. "I should have known some of you would be interested in the arts. If you aren't adept with magic, you'll have to look elsewhere. It is too bad being a musician makes terrible money."

She hovered in front of me. I didn't want to exist in that moment; I wanted to shrivel up and just die. This came from my father and intentionally. Why did this happen to me when I was good and didn't deserve this treatment? Why couldn't someone regard my talent without jealousy or dismissal?

The rest of rehearsal didn't go well. Flitwick was unhappy with every note and pitch everyone sang and was disapproving of our tempo and dynamics. We might as well have done everything possible wrong! The unfortunate part was that he was right about it all.

Ethan was waiting for us when we left the Hall, wanting to know how it went.

"I hate Umbridge," I blurted. Lacey nodded her head, being able to see right through the awful woman. "She'll prolly end music at Hogwarts! She hates anyone creative."

"She hates Stor since she's talented and stands up for herself," Lacey explained.

Ethan huffed. "I always knew we'd be a pair of underdogs. Hard knock life, isn't it?"

I missed the reference, of course.

"Well, I know who took the picture," Ethan said.

"Who?" Lacey and I gasped in unison.

" _Colin Creevey_. I can't believe it! Even _he_ isn't afraid of me!"

Ethan feigned a fake laugh as Lacey and I practically fell into the dungeons. Lacey ended up on the ground and I fell on my back next to her.

"Get off the floor," said Draco Malfoy, kicking us a bit. He looked at us like he was angry for another reason but couldn't for the life of him remember why. I touched my necklace from the lake.

I scowled at him and started to get up.

"Olivia told me everything!" I looked over to see Niles approach us. He grabbed Ethan, who was shoved into the table.

"Hey man, that was my King," said Tim Morcott over his chess game. Meanwhile, Draco just stood by watching as Ethan was physically assaulted. Without Pansy by his side, he had no inkling what to do.

"Don't you dare touch him!" I yelled at Niles, getting up in his face.

"Get away from me, you Blood Traitor," he spat, taking me by the shoulders and pushing me back. I catapulted into Malfoy, who caught me and then tossed me away in embarrassment. Lacey held onto me, refusing to interfere either way.

"She didn't want to kiss you! What you did was so sick! You disgusting little Mud—"

"She wanted to kiss me!" Ethan hollered back. "You're just telling yourself she didn't! I don't care what you believe. You're just upset because your own dick is so small that when you came out your own mother thought you were a girl!"

" _Confringo_!"

There was a cloud of smoke and Ethan ended up on the opposite end of the room. Everyone stopped and was silent. I rushed over to him and saw he was knocked unconscious. There was a small, bleeding cut on the back of his head.

"Well, don't just stand there!" I said to Malfoy. "Go get help!"

* * *

 **A/N:** Ooh, Malfoy. Think I'm doing well with what little I've put in with their interaction so far?

Thanks for the reviews! It means a lot that I have readers more consistent than I am. I'd love to hear what you think of how I'm crafting this story and any questions you might have. I plan on having the next chapter in by the middle of February and if not, sooner! It should be more towards the 7,000 word count, as well.

 **Review and be amazed!** **I hope everyone is having a great week. :)**


	14. The Face Stealer

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Broadway musical theatre or the name for this chapter.

* * *

"How do you feel?" I asked Ethan before he had even gotten a chance to assess his surroundings.

He plopped his head back on his pillow, overgrown locks spilling onto the satin. "Woozy."

"You're concussed," Lacey informed him. "Other than that, Madame Pomphrey says you're fine."

Ethan closed his eyes. "I'm so _stupid_. I should've known Niles would try to kill me if I mentioned his complex."

"At least you still have your humor," I noted.

"Let's see if you have your brains," Lacey said. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Do you want me to tell you what you can do with your fingers?"

Madame Pomphrey scuttled into the room before Lacey could unleash her vengeance. We watched as she gave Ethan several tests to affirm the severity of his concussion. She told him to be careful of the stitching on the wound on the back of his head. We then watched as she Transfigured a small meal and a Potion that would help the swelling in his brain.

"Dumbledore wishes to speak to you girls in his office. I suggest you be on your way." Ethan seemed to be in good hands and had not demonstrated any signs of regression, so we bid him goodbye and headed for Dumbledore's office.

"You better do all the talking," I blurted to Lacey.

"No way! Gosh, Stor. This is terrifying. Why would he want to see us?"

"We're witnesses. He's probably had to talk to everyone involved. Maybe he'll _finally_ give the people in this school some discipline."

"I wouldn't count on it," drawled a voice. My eyes followed to the direction of Draco Malfoy, who was waiting in front of the office. "It's too much to hope for that the little Mudblood will get what he deserves. If Handley had kept _both_ of his wands in check, this really could have turned out in his favor."

I started toward him.

The door to Dumbledore's office swung open. The decrepit man clapped his hands together. "Miss Greengrass and Miss Blackwell, I'm glad you could make it." He acted as if we had the option to stand up our own headmaster. He nodded to Draco, whose neck should have been enclosed in my hands at this moment. "I'll speak with you after, Mr. Malfoy."

"I was here first and I have to wait?" He crossed his arms. "This wouldn't happen if the Ministry was in charge of this place," he mumbled.

"Well, you won't have to wait long for that to happen," Dumbledore replied matter-of-factly. He ushered us into his office. I began to relax as I navigated through the calming environment. It was almost comical to see portraits of the previous, caricatured Headmasters on the wall, along with Wizardly awards and mementos. There was a gargantuan bowl of aquamarine water in a corner of the room, resembling a swirling daydream.

Then my eyes settled on Professor Snape.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, "I apologize if I was not clear before. Our meeting has concluded and you may go."

"You were perfectly clear, _Albus._ I'd like to stay to make sure the proper consequences are carried out for _my_ House." His eyes skittered over Lacey and I, glaring into my soul.

"Don't fret, Severus. I will make sure each student will have the appropriate points docked." He gave one of his portraits a conspiratorial wink. For a man dealing with bigoted violence among students, he surely took the situation lightly.

Snape had nothing to say at that. He nodded to Dumbledore and swished out of the office, the stones moving way for him with a grimacing rumble. I wondered if Draco Malfoy would convince him to punish Ethan for something once he made his way outside.

"Sit down, girls. Please get comfortable." Lacey and I glanced at each other and sat down in the plush chairs. I gripped my hands over the armrests but then realized they were lions and removed them.

"How are you both after this ordeal?"

I was a bit flabbergasted by this question. Did he even know what happened or was he just ascertaining and making his own assumptions? Before I could answer, Lacey erupted into what sounded like a rehearsed answer.

"Just fine, Headmaster. I didn't take any sides and don't mean anything against anyone in my House. I just happened to be there when everything happened."

Dumbedore nodded as I stared into the swirling water on his side of the room. "And you, Miss Greengrass?"

I snapped out of my artificial reverie. "I'm … I'm upset." I could sense Lacey tense beside me. What was her problem?

"Can you tell me why you're upset?"

"Niles _attacked_ Ethan. And it wasn't even over the truth. He pushed him, and when I tried to stick up for him, he pushed me and called me a Blood Traitor. Then when Ethan tried to stick up for himself, he started calling _him_ a Mudblood. Ethan didn't even have his wand out or try to hurt him and, and then Niles shot him out of thin air. He must've flown ten feet! I'm tired of how people in my House treat Ethan. I know they'll just end up finding a way to blame him for this."

Dumbledore just listened.

"I have nothing to do with it, but they were really going at it," Lacey said. My blood was broiling and I felt like I was running a temperature.

"I see. How did you feel when your friends were being pushed and called names, Miss Blackwell?" What was he, a shrink?

"I felt bad that they had to get so involved." I shook my head, my throat burning and on the verge of tears.

"Ethan's not even here to defend himself. Niles should be punished, Professor. At the very least, I just want people to treat Ethan better."

"I can imagine being a Slytherin and a Muggleborn is not easy for your friend. But since he demonstrates the ambitiousness and perseverance of the House, I believe he will be okay. I can't promise people will treat him better, but I will see to it that Niles is talked to."

 _He will be talked to._ Now I gripped the chair regardless of what it was made from to prevent myself from flinging a spell at the two other people in the room.

"Well, I believe that takes care of everything. If there is anything else either of you wish to discuss with me privately, just use the password." He told us what it was and ushered us outside. Despite seeing us first, he appeared more intent to speak to Malfoy. I watched him saunter inside, for once not wearing a smug look on his face but one of slight nausea. I could not see why he would be afraid of Dumbledore other than for his momentous title. He was just a man of inaction. He didn't care about Ethan; he cared about keeping the school open. He did not talk to us to seek retribution for Ethan, but to act like he was doing the responsible thing.

"Why didn't you stick up for him?" I asked Lacey. "Maybe then he would actually give him a real punishment." This probably wasn't true, but she could have at least stuck by her feelings. Perhaps they were not what I had thought.

"Sh, your voice echoes in the hall."

"Well?"

She sighed. "I want to be neutral and not involved."

"You're afraid about what people might say about you." If Lacey had stated her opinion and held to it like myself, the Quidditch team would ostracize her and the small Third Year reputation she had would be soiled. I doubted she liked that we were in the same meeting and the option that what I said could interfere with her own indecisiveness.

"Yeah. I don't want them to think just because I'm friends with Ethan I'm taking sides."

"That's what friends do, Lacey! Even if Ethan was wrong, I would take his side! I stick by you two no matter what. Would you do the same for me, or toss me away like you just did him?"

Redness flashed across Lacey's pale complexion. "I'm not tossing anyone away. I'm just not taking sides. If you want to be loyal for some stupid reason, why don't you cozy up with the Gryffindors?"

Instead of instigating my infuriation, this hurt me. "I just don't understand why you're so _afraid._ Why do you care so much what other people think?"

We had made our way into the dungeons now, and the scant light available was cast over our shadows as we argued in the corner.

"Do you want to be treated like Ethan was? Someone already called you a Blood Traitor. I want to enjoy school and I don't want my parents to think I'm involved in what's happening or they'll get dragged into it too... I'm your friend, Astoria, so I'll tell you when you're being stupid."

I waited.

"You're being stupid."

"How?!"

"Your family is part of the Twenty-Eight! Don't you understand how important it is that you don't screw stuff up?"

I crossed my arms and looked out into Black Lake. "I'm not going to be a hypocrite. If I'm friends with Ethan, I'm going to at least defend him."

"That's just reckless, Stor. You've got to understand it's more than that. Snape already knows we saw what happened. He could tell your father or anyone and it could get back to the Ministry. All those families, Stor. The Carrows, Notts, Lestranges, _Malfoys_ will know what happened. I know you don't care what happens to your father, but you must care that you won't belong _anywhere_ if you drag this out."

"I'm not dragging anything out," I informed her. "I'm just stating my opinion."

Lacey sighed. "I'm going up to bed. Don't say I never told you." Then for the first time in existence, Lacey Blackwell claimed she would be going to sleep before myself.

The beginning of the next week had the entirety of our House walking on thin ice. It turned out being pointless of the weariness between Ethan and Niles because Niles decided to ignore Ethan. They not only acted as if nothing had occurred, but that neither of them existed. I suppose Niles did not want the comment about his masculinity to circulate. Malcolm seemed prepared to instigate something if his Master permitted so, but Niles never gave the word. However, I did notice a strange hatred being emitted from Ethan's aura to Olivia. There was awkwardness whenever the two were fated to cross paths throughout the day. I had never seen Olivia act less than sublime or the epitome of Pureblood class, but she blushed whenever Ethan came near. The most Ethan would spare her was a degrading glance—something that pleased the sadist in me but also troubled my soul.

Lacey still sat with us and talked with us but was careful not to mention anything that might garner negativity. The days were grueling and unstimulating. It seemed we were friends on principle: I gave Lacey my homework and she gave me the habit of her presence.

The rest of our House gave us some sparing attention—the Quidditch team would sometimes clap Ethan behind the back, leaving him seething. The two responsible Prefects were more than happy to recount the drama (even though Pansy wasn't there, she was happy to indulge in the conversation with Malfoy). One evening, I sat in the common room doing my homework like a good little Third Year and listened as they talked about my friend. Luckily, Ethan was in his dormitory and Lacey was at practice.

"And after the Mudblood wimp got shoved into the desk, he opened his smart mouth—"

"But before that Handley shoved Greengrass and she fell right into your waiting arms!" I felt Blaise's gaze bore into me. I stared at my homework, gripping my quill but not seeing the words on the parchment. Thank Merlin none of them saw me on the other side of the couch. I sunk lower.

"Right," Malfoy said tersely, obviously not finding this amusing.

" _I_ heard Handley called her a Blood Traitor," said Pansy. "Wouldn't that be some great gossip for Daphne! I'm sure she'd love _that_."

Bitch. Even I didn't hate my sister that much.

"Who told you that, Pansy? One of the First Year wankers?"

Pansy scoffed. "I didn't say it was _true_. I just said I heard it."

Their conversation gradually faded into another topic and I began to relax. Did Malfoy just have a terrible memory or was he covering the insult? Why would he do that, anyway? I was a measly Third Year and his affirmation of the insult would be of no consequence to him.

I stood up, brushing aside my homework I would procrastinate doing until the next morning. I stuffed everything inside my bag and turned to go up the stairs. As I made my way up, I looked right at them until they saw me.

* * *

Ethan and I waited outside of Professor Burbage's room, watching as yet another decree was hammered onto the wall by Filch. Soon there would not be any space left.

Ethan mimed a flick of the wrist. "Just a little flick of my wand and Filch could go toppling to the floor," he whispered. I could not help but smile at the delicious thought.

Professor Burbage apologized to us for being late and ushered us inside her room. She was carrying loads of supplies her arms. Ethan rushed to help her levitate them before they spilled onto the floor. We settled into our seats, uttering in hushed, excited voices. We waited for Burbage to pull up the projector as usual, but instead of dimming the lights to see that ghetto contraption, something much more glamorous happened.

The front of Burbage's classroom was transformed into a stage. We sat, transfixed, as we saw a hologram of what Burbage pinned as Vaudeville shows in American theatre. We watched elephants perform circus tricks, ballerinas prance about the stage, avant-garde singers make their operatic debut, and comedy acts with blackface. It was an otherworldly place—conservatively beautiful but ignorant.

The vaudeville performances shimmered into nonexistence and I began to recognize some classic overtures and medleys from the iPod. Children flew over hills and ran through the town as they learned music in "Do Re Mi." A countryman sang "Oklahoma," another "If I Were a Rich Man." We saw snippets from shows like _My Fair Lady, Hairspray, Mama Mia, Cats,_ and the indelible _Lion King_. The screen went blank again and dark orchestral music floated through. I snuck a glance at Ethan and saw his eyes reflect the wavelength of the hologram.

There was a hushed silence as we watched a _Les Misérables_ medley. I hummed along to "I Dreamed a Dream," wondering if it was possible to love a song so much. By the time "On My Own" came on, half of the audience was in tears. Just after the throes of the French Revolution were announced, another production had begun. But instead of a snippet or a medley, the whole song was played. It was one of the most beautiful pieces of music I had ever heard. I knew I would sing "Think of Me" someday.

When the character Christine got to the high B flat and crescendoed into her cadenza, we ascended in uproarious applause. But it was not over. We were taken through various other songs, the most prominent being "The Phantom of the Opera," "The Music of the Night," "Masquerade," "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again," and "The Point of No Return."

The lights came on.

Before we could even collect our bearings, Professor Burbage gave us makeup supplies. "Pick a character and apply with the directions. You're lucky you've got wands. All the actors in these musicals had to do their stage makeup by hand!"

"What character should I do?" I asked Ethan as he ruffled through his bag. It was the first time in a week he was not complaining. I guess he was taking the makeup ordeal in stride.

"Shrek," Ethan snorted. I swatted his arm.

"Who are you doing?" I asked him.

"The Phantom of the Opera, of course. He has a great persona and costume." I watched as Ethan adeptly applied a base coat of powder foundation with a flick of his wand. It was hard to resist the temptation to laugh because he was going to be a drag queen.

"I know who you can be Stor, and without much effort."

"Who?" I asked hopefully.

"Fantine."

"I'm not that stupid! I know she's a prostitute, Ethan!"

I jumped as Professor Burbage approached it. "Do you need help on figuring out what character you'd like to portray, Astoria? I heard you humming to one of the songs, and you were rather good. I'm glad you know some basis of musical theater but you seem to have a long way to go."

"I think I do need help, Professor."

"Well, I think despite what Ethan Travers may think, you would do astonishingly well for Fantine or Christine. You have a very dainty figure. With a powerful voice, so I've heard. All you have to do is basic stage makeup in your set here and then see me after for your costume."

Costume? Was it sad that this was approaching the most exhilarating moment in my life?

I followed Ethan's model but with liquid foundation that tanned my skin well. I was no longer a gaunt, ghastly ghost in the cold dungeons of Hogwarts, but an orange Popsicle. Still, I looked older and hotter than before; almost resembling the person I had transformed into on Halloween. "Is this good?" I asked Ethan.

Ethan balked a bit and tilted his head. I jumped at the touch of his cold hand as he blended some foundation down into my neck.

"Why didn't you use your wand?" I almost whispered.

He shrugged. "It was just easier that way."

A loud clunk of high heels was heard and I saw one of the Seventh Years prance about the stage as a cat. The makeup was elaborate and almost frightening. From then on, I concentrated on accenting my eyes, coloring my eyebrows, and contouring my face, managing to follow the directions on the tutorial. It was amazing to see that as done up as I was every morning, there was still so much more to it.

After I finished with a dab of lipstick, I went to see Professor Burbage. I told her I was Christine Daae. She curled my hair into ringlets and gave it extensions. I lifted my arms as I saw a majestic white dress swirl around my body. I didn't feel real in its firm bodice, open sleeves, and its floor-length tresses.

I spun around, feeling it spin with me—like I was barring my soul from the outside-in. All grace was lost, however, when I spotted Ethan in his Phantom costume. He was wearing a slick black wig, a white mask, and a black cape. But he seemed so pleased with himself that it was impossible for me to tell him that he looked like a bad carbon copy of Professor Snape.

Ethan pretended to flex. "Are you scared of me yet, Christine?"

"Yes. You're making me believe that the Phantom is a twelve-year-old pest."

"Ouch. I can't even hit you with a comeback because you look _that_ good."

I flipped my fake ringlets. "I don't know, Raoul's more my type…."

Before Ethan could strangle me, Professor Burbage bellowed that she wanted a picture of her entire miscellaneous cast. I tottered to the center of the classroom and posed with Ethan, pretending that he had hypnotized me. It was a silly picture, half with most people I never talked to inside school. But for that moment, all our preconceptions had boiled down to a feeling of togetherness. It was almost from another life.

Sometimes when I miss him, I look at that picture.

* * *

 _Astoria,_

 _Your mother and I are still disappointed in your behavior. I wanted you punished upon your return, but such formal punishments do not always teach proper lessons. I believe you will find the below fitting. Do not cry to your mother about the following because she is already aware of it and agreeable. She wants to add that we are volunteering you out of not just of retribution or duty but care for your future. I do not care for cordiality but I must agree that it will benefit the status you should start making with teachers and peers. If you do not participate in extracurriculars, you must compromise._

Because of the rest of his letter, I was now standing in Professor Umbridge's private office along with fellow members of my House. We were to be inducted into her Inquisitorial Squad. We would meet once a week to ensure the decrees Umbridge proposed were carried out among students.

"I suspect," said Umbridge, "that there are secret societies among Hogwarts students. Some say they are equivalent to the KKK in America. They do not want what is best for this school and plan to go against me just for the sake of disobedience. It is a preposterous idea that students would purposely break these laws of virtue. This is why I am entrusting in all of you to lead by your example. We meet once a week to specifically scour the grounds for suspicious acts, but you must all wear your badges to proudly pronounce that you are always behind this school. If you are not behind this school, I am afraid you are not behind the Ministry. And if you are not behind the Ministry, you are not behind _magic_." She almost whispered the last word.

Umbridge sipped her tea while she had Draco Malfoy pass out badges. Pansy made it a point to put it directly between the inseam of her robes and breast, but I knew she would take it off as soon as we left the office. Crabbe and Goyle were next—of course they would not even be able to get their badges on. After was Daphne, who I assumed was forced to do this by our parents as well. She and Malfoy had a staring match that was not only between angry enemies, but angry Slytherin enemies. I planned to remind Blaise in my next letter that he should join the Inquisitorial Squad if he _really_ wanted to be near Daphne.

Besides the Carrow twins and Theodore Nott, no one else I talked to was in the Inquisitorial Squad. Niles Handley and all his kissing up to teacher would not be acted upon.

"Your sister's a bitch," Draco Malfoy murmured as he dropped a badge into my hand. I tucked it in my pocket, trying to hold in unwarranted but awkward laughter. Why _did_ they hate each other? The worst part was that I did not take his comment as an insult to me but an observation of pity.

Umbridge prattled on about the Inquisitorial Squad and made us sign a piece of paper, which made me nervous. I needed to ask Ethan what the KKK was so I knew what I was up against. She mentioned us to watch out for Gryffindors. This made a lot of students in the room perk up but I was keen on the fact one could probably file for discrimination for mentioning a singular House without an ounce of evidence.

Just when I thought we would never get out, Umbridge offered us tea and donuts. Unless they were laced with arsenic or another questionable Potion, I figured there would be at least one positive impact of these meetings.

"Astoria, can we talk?" Daphne said under her breath. What was it with Slytherins and mumbling?

"Sure," I said, rubbing powdered sugar off my mouth. I followed her into the hall, letting it fall onto the floor. For once, Daphne did not chastise me and instead plowed on.

"I heard about what happened."

"I know, I hate that the stupid woman had to give me a detention and now I have to go to these stupid meetings—"

"No. I mean, I did hear about that from Mum and Dad. But I _meant_ the whole fight between Handley and … and your mate, Travers."

I balked a little. "Oh. What about it?"

"Are you okay? I mean, after what he called you—"

For the Sacred Twenty-Eight, being called a "Blood Traitor" was a denunciation of honor. To say it, even in jest, would equate to Grindelwald rolling over in his grave. In the safe world of Hogwarts, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs did not understand this code of rules. They might consider it a blessing, but it does not change the fact of the weight it has upon the rest of us.

"Please, don't tell anyone. For now they just think it's a rumor."

"Yes, because it's so far from the truth. But I know that's what the Handley bitch said because Tracey saw it. I just want to make sure no one's picking on you. Family sticks up for family, right?"

"I guess," I said, a bit surprised. "Is it just because that's your duty, or because you actually care?"

Daphne sighed. "Of course I care, Astoria. You're my sister."

"That's why you care."

"Ugh, we never even talk, and when we do, we still fight. Look, Astoria. I know we've never been close after I started Hogwarts. I know it might not mean anything because we're sisters and that isn't good enough for your pride. I suppose I didn't _chose_ you. But because you _are_ my sister, I can't stay mad at you forever. I'll lie for you and protect you. Sometimes, if you think about it, that's even better."

I stood near the courtyard, watching the moonlight cast a tint of light on our shrouded faces. "I guess. And no one's picking on me."

"Good. Look, I don't want you to get mad at me again, but I want to tell you to _please_ be careful. And _think_ once in a while." She sighed. "I guess it's pointless to forget Ethan because you seem to care about him very much. But … be Hufflepuff. I don't see Lacey getting this kind of treatment.

"What I'm saying is that things will only get worse from here. You can't see in retrospect because you're so young. But they have and they will. And things blow up very quickly. Next time, everyone might remember your comment and they won't care about protecting you. So please. Don't worry about doing the right thing and being loyal. Just worry about your own ass like everyone else does."

If only I had bottled up her advice than seen it as warped and convoluted.

"Thank you for caring, Daphne. Despite what you said, many sisters wouldn't do the same thing."

"I want our family to stay together. Even if Mum and Dad's marriage isn't what it should be, I want the Greengrasses to at least _look_ put together and strong. I'd hate to fall apart like the Blacks." She had tears in her eyes.

I wanted to tell her how much I appreciated that, even if I disagreed with her on everything else. How much I wanted a stable family, one without pretensions and manipulation. But I couldn't, because there was a great commotion near the Great Hall. A conglomeration of students and Houses were gathered there, some talking in loud spurts and others whispering.

We separated, family but not friends. Small and determined, I pushed my way to the front, where I spotted Lacey and Ethan.

Before I could ask, Ethan spoke up.

"Trelawney's been fired by that Umbridge wench."

* * *

 **A/N:** Whoo, it's been a while! I hope you enjoyed reading the chapter because I certainly enjoyed writing it. I'm hoping the next one will be more towards the 7,000 word count. If my .5 readers were wondering when the next update will be, plan on in the next month. I am determined to keep updates within the month, even if it means writing chunks at a time.

 **I'm determined to get more reviews! :)** Tell your friends IRL or on here. I'd love to get some really detailed reviews so I can interact with people about my plans in the story and the psychology of the characters. That's what's great about this website as opposed to publishing a book. Anyhoo, thanks to everyone who has reviewed at this point!

 **Ask one character one question** and I'll answer it in the next author note for the following chapter! Feel free to ask any additional questions as well. Thanks for the patience, my .5 readers, for updates and everything else-including this story itself. I hope my .5 readers have a great weekend. Make it last. :)


	15. The Holiday Season

The Quidditch team strutted into the Great Hall. I fanned Lacey to calm her nerves. They seemed more than prepared for their match in a few hours.

Adrian Pucey sauntered over to our seating arrangement. He had a grin on his face when he scooted next to Lacey. Her face lit up when she saw him.

"Excited for the match?"

Lacey laughed. "I'm not playing, but sure I'm excited."

"I'll _make_ it happen next year," said Adrian. "It's a promise."

"I'm fine with not playing! I suck!"

Adrian laughed now. "You do _not_. You're too hard on yourself. Besides, you'd actually get more practice runs in if they _let_ you." He seemed paranoid that Montague or Malfoy were watching him but said it anyway.

"Your friends coming to see us?" he asked. Ethan and I nodded.

"We're making signs for Lacey," I said and Lacey groaned.

Adrian chuckled. "You've got a cute group of friends." He set his hand on her shoulder. "Well, catch you all later." He was looking at her when he said it.

Two seconds after he left, Lacey said, "Ethan, plug your ears. It's time for a girl talk."

"Then I _shouldn't_ be plugging my ears," said Ethan. "Tell me all the juicy details, girl _friend_."

She didn't miss a beat. "I think he's gonna ask me out after the match. How 'bout that? I know he's older, but I think I'll say yes."

"He seems nice enough," I said.

"That's all you've got to say?"

"Yeah, Stor, be supportive of our friend!" Ethan exclaimed, getting up so suddenly his chair fell to the floor. He raised his arm up high. "We are on a mission to get Lacey a man!"

"Merlin, sit down," said Lacey, "or I'll deny ever knowing you."

We did not attract any kind of negative attention, however, because everyone was too busy watching the Quidditch team doing their chant. Lacey joined in the back of the line as they made their way out of the Great Hall.

 _"Weasley cannot save a thing,_

 _He cannot block a single ring,_

 _That's why Slytherins all sing:_

 _Weasley is our King."_

Ethan and I cheered. What a patriotic chant. We made our way to the Hogwarts ground, sticking close together in the chaos. We went up to the tallest row in the seats because everything else was filled. We could see everything. There were colors everywhere and everyone was so happy—how had I never recognized something so hypnotic before? How could you ever reject a gathering where everyone is so energetic?

The Professors were passing signs around and claiming that our privileges would be taken away if we defamed our opposing team with them. Using my wand, I inscribed the sign with our house colors with the gold lettering: GO LACEY! Ethan added his own signature: BADASS BITCH, which I did not okay.

We ended up right next to Fay and a few of her Ravenclaw friends that claimed they were indeed rooting for Slytherin. "According to my calculations," one of them said (I had to hit Ethan to prevent him from outright laughing), "it's most probable the Slytherin team will win."

"What's in your calculations that tells you it's most probable?" Ethan asked.

"Ronald Weasley is a terrible Keeper."

I wanted to inform them they had no actual proof of this, but the match had begun. Both teams approached the centerfield from each side. They were supposed to shake hands but it looked more like strangling through Ethan's binoculars. We held up our sign when Lacey emerged and sat on the benches outside, screaming manically.

"And it seems two young Slytherins are making the most of this match by having a sign for their friend that reads 'badass—'" Lee Jordan was interrupted by McGonagall's wand muting his microphone. Ethan and I took down our sign and blotted his part out.

The coin was tossed and the match began. Right away, I noticed two biases: Lee Jordan was evidently rooting for Gryffindor, in evidence by his commentary, and the Slytherins had brought their un-sportsmanship to the field. It seemed both teams would do whatever it took to win—even cheat.

Right away, the Slytherin beaters were going in for the Gryffindor team, beating them around more than the Quaffle. Adrian Pucey, Lacey's lover-to-be, was doing a fine job following the rules but shoving them around just the same. The Slytherins seemed intent on getting one past Ron Weasley, and as they made their way towards the goalpost, the chant went up in our section.

The Gryffindors, meanwhile, seemed angered by the Slytherins' misconduct throughout the beginning of the match and were invigorated by Lee Jordan's commentary. Apparently they had practiced just as hard as our team. It seemed, however, that this match was more than winning a game but something much more personal—particularly between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

Harry Potter was built up as the "Seeker of the Century," but neither he nor Draco could see the Seeker plainly visible to my eyes. They were more intent on distracting one another or one-upping them with their testosterone.

When Ron blocked his first Quaffle, the Gryffindor side leaped in uproarious applause. Ron looked surprised at himself and like he might lose his breakfast. The Gryffindor offense did not hesitate and continued to knock down the Slytherin defensive. When Gryffindor scored and Ron blocked another Quaffle, Lacey put her hand into her hands. I had no patriotism for our team but somehow this was a blow to the House that always seemed to lose to Harry Potter and his friends.

It made me angry.

It was unsurprising when Harry Potter caught the Snitch. Our section held stock-still as the entire opposing side hollered and rushed to congratulate one another. We let down Lacey's sign and made our way towards the Slytherin team to see her.

"If we had this kind of victory, it would be all 'poor Gryffindors, they really deserved the win," I mocked. "Why do people see us this way?"

"Because we hate everyone," Ethan replied.

"We're just honest with how we feel."

"You wanna know how people see us? I know because I'm Muggleborn. They see us like a whiny girl on her period. And they're not all that wrong."

"Well, if the whiny girl on her period was understood better, then maybe she wouldn't be whiny anymore."

Ethan shrugged. "I don't think she wants to be understood. I think she just wants chocolate." His face crinkled. "Jesus, I really need to stop hanging out with girls!"

The field was absolute chaos. The Gryffindors were already building themselves and Weasley up and mocking our own team. We were no better, but it was _okay_ for them to mock us because we deserved it!

"Good job sitting here, Lace," I told her.

She laughed but looked close to tears. "I saw your sign before you took the second part off."

We pulled her in for a group hug. "Don't be sad, you played well," Ethan told her. I nodded in agreement.

"It doesn't matter though. We still lost and by a longshot. What if we lose the Cup completely? They say if Gryffindor wins their first match they usually win the entire thing. We haven't won in forever, and…."

Adrian put his arm around Lacey's shoulder. "Good game, Adrian," she told him. He smiled painfully. He had a bump on his head from where a Quaffle hit him.

"Thanks. Hey, don't beat yourself up over this loss. That's the job of the people who played. You should be pissed at us!"

Lacey shook her head in exasperation. "I'm pissed at the Gryffindors."

"Why?"

"It's impossible to explain, but don't you understand?" I asked him. "Them winning this match is just digging in the knife that's already planted." Ethan whistled at my analogy.

Adrian and Lacey both looked impressed as well for expressing this feeling. For three years and counting, we have felt victimized from the Gryffindors but only displayed it with enraged fervor. Now we understood this was only a defensive image.

There was suddenly a loud scuffling noise. Everyone stopped talking with one another and turned to see the commotion. George Weasley and Harry Potter had both flung themselves at Draco Malfoy, who probably had said something scathing. He seemed to panic at their brute physical force and we just watched and probably would have kept watching even if he was mauled.

When Umbridge stepped in, he straightened his tie and smirked. As we watched her ban them from Quidditch "forever," we all found ourselves smirking with him.

* * *

As much as we loathed Umbridge's control over Hogwarts, we all preferred our new Divination professor. One, he was a good teacher. Two, he was attractive. (Who cares if he was half horse?) Us Slytherins were the only ones who had the gall to admit this; the Gryffindors in our class were too faithful to Trelawney. It was hypocritical considering how often they complained about her.

Hogwarts was becoming a more dismal place every day. Winter had come early, so we could not escape the wrath of Umbridge by venturing outside. Mother Nature seemed to have taken her side.

The first half of December was uneventful besides the occasional meeting with Snape, bad grades, and Frog Choir. We had started on our Christmas repertoire and were almost ready to perform our music. With our parent's permission, Third Years and up could go to Hogsmeade and sing carols to passersby. Professor Flitwick appeared both anxious and exhilarated to show us off.

The day of our recital was just like old times between Lacey and I. We spent the entire morning prepping ourselves. We painted our nails, did our hair, and helped each other with detailed makeup. Flitwick made us wear concert blacks for the occasion, but we made sure we looked good in them and not like we were attending a funeral.

Ethan failed at whistling when he saw us, but we got the point.

Lacey curtsied and spun me around.

"We're stopping the beat," I said in reference to a musical. Ethan rolled his eyes.

It was snowing outside, but no wind was blowing. It was a Saturday and we all had the whole world ahead of us. Due to Umbridge's dictatorial regime, there were sparse decorations indicating of the holiday season. The people in our year who had promised to watch the choir besides Ethan were the Carrow twins and Fay, and that was a big-arse deal for us. Sad, but true.

We gave Professor McGonagall our permission slips and filed into Hogsmeade. "Remember when we snuck in to look for dresses for the Yule Ball, Lace?"

"How could I forget something like that? Your sister made each of us gain fifty pounds."

"I'd take another detention with Umbridge to see that," Ethan said. I hit him upside the head but he seemed to enjoy it.

We met Professor Flitwick in front of the Three Broomsticks because it was the most probable place to attract students. It would soon lose its business. We gathered in our rows and started on warmups for our voices. I removed the scarf from my mouth and was no longer shivering when I started to sing.

We started with some basic carols: "Oh Come All Ye Faithful," with the final Latin coda, "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen," "Hold a Torch, Jeanette, Isabelle" (which was a train-wreck because no one could read phonetics), etc. They were beautiful Muggle songs. Wizards did not really have Christmas carols, Flitwick had explained. We borrowed everything and pretended to deny it because most the carols were already ancient.

As the recital progressed, we moved on to more multi-chordal harmonies that would attract more attention from educate onlookers. I and a few other soprano 1s sang a descant that gained a few watchers. We ended the program with a song called "Auld Lang Syne," which made a few people sigh wistfully.

"Great job, girlies," Ethan said, flicking his wrist. "The whole concert was basically Astoria and the soprano section."

Lacey laughed at that. "It was more like Astoria and 'the choir.'"

"The frogs were good, too," said Ethan, nodding to Toad. Lacey stroked his back.

"I think some of the frogs sound less like frogs than some of the sopranos," I said.

"Thank you girls," said Flitwick, handing Lacey and I two coupons for a free butterbeer. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

We entered the Three Broomsticks with a gust of air pushing through the open door. It was rowdy inside with the Saturday afternoon crowd in full swing. We tapped our feet in time to "California Dreamin'" that was being piped throughout the room. Now when I heard a good song, I knew it was Muggle.

We ordered our butterbeers and began predicting how fast Hogwarts would turn into a fascist regime under Dolores Umbridge.

"She's handing out detentions now just to prove a point," I said. " _Fay_ got a detention yesterday!"

"Decree 212 was just put up too," Ethan told us. "We can't play music outside of choir anymore."

I slammed my butterbeer down on the table. "That's it. I'm transferring to Beauxbatons."

Ethan shrugged. "You're pretty enough."

"Look!" exclaimed Lacey. "There's about to be a catfight!" We turned to see Umbridge and McGonagall facing one another across the room. It had gone quiet—Umbridge would ever be seen inside the Three Broomsticks. There had to be some serious business going on.

"You won't get away with it," we caught McGonagall saying before storming out of the room. Umbridge huffed and followed after a few moments, sweeping snow away with her wand. She shrieked when the Slytherin Quidditch team entered the vicinity, mounds of snow pouring onto her pink coat. Muttering threats and waving her wand around manically, she vanished into the village.

You know when you have to attend something and every fiber of your being rebels against it? That you rebel against it so much so that you decide to be miserable and half-arse anything you might have to pursue?

That is me with Inquisitorial Squad.

We were informed in Umbridge's office that tonight's mission was to search the castle for secret places anywhere on the grounds where people might hold meetings. I had a feeling she wasn't telling us everything.

We were given and told to count off. Because there were a few extras, they decided to arrange the mission in groups of three and in certain areas of the castle. As fate's awkward reputation called for, I was paired with Daphne and Blaise. It would have better if I had third wheeled their relationship.

Daphne walked right up to Umbridge within her first window of opportunity. She seemed to have a better relationship with her than I had. "Professor, can I please switch with another partner? I don't get along well with Zabini." She used his surname to express distaste, I noticed.

"The groups are the groups, Miss Greengrass!"

Daphne looked prepared to get down on her knees. (This was a big deal for Pureblood Slytherins.) "Please, Professor. We're … exes."

Umbridge tee-heed. "Surely we must learn to get along with everyone, regardless of the circumstances! The Inquisitorial Squad is a professional business, and if you are not mature enough to handle it, I suggest you resign."

Daphne looked ready to smack her. She probably worked hard to kiss-up to Umbridge and now she was rejected her simple request because of her addictedness of control.

"Looks like you're stuck with me, Daphne!" Blaise said. I hide to hide my snort inside my hand.

Daphne growled and stalked out of the room. I followed close behind, remembering that I was under the pretenses of taking her side. However, I could tell Blaise was already scheming for a way to use this opportunity to his benefit. I could also see that I would help him. It was impossible for me to see what he saw in Daphne and what made him chase her to no avail and lose no enthusiasm. Whether it was healthy or not was none of business. But it was something I admired.

Our group had to scour the upper levels of the castle, particularly the Owlery and the Astronomy Tower. It was not specified as to what we were looking for, but I doubt we would find anything even if it had been. Who would hold a secret meeting underneath owl poop anyway?

"All right. Let's get this done faster," Daphne said as we made our way upstairs. Blaise was making a big show of acting as if he was not in shape enough for this but Daphne did not appear amused or even fazed. "Zabini, you can go to the Owlery, and Astoria and I will hit the Astronomy Tower."

"Aw, why do I have to go where all the shite is?" Blaise whined, but he was smiling.

"Because you'll be right at home," Daphne replied frigidly. I laughed. Blaise didn't seem to appreciate it. Daphne waved her dark hair in his face and continued up the stairs, her shoes clacking.

"Won't you at least tell me what I did so I can try to fix it?" Blaise asked. His face had changed to a grim expression and he looked close to tears at the rejection.

Daphne snapped around. "You can never _fix it._ "

Blaise got down on his knees in front of her. It looked like a terrible scene from a dramatic play, in which the peasant was fruitlessly begging a queen to save him. It never ended well for the peasant in those plays.

" _Please,_ Daphne. I've … I've been torn apart wondering these last few months. I tried gifts, tried apologizing, and now I'm just begging. I'm begging you to at least explain to me what happened, what I did. So at least then … maybe I can leave with some peace of mind. Because Daphne I love—"

"Get off your knees. I'm not worth it, and neither is love." Daphne looked aside and away. "Go to the Owlery, Blaise."

Blaise almost tripped over his own feet in his effort to stand upright. He was such a fool. "You're worth it to me."

"You want to know why I'm mad at you? I tried to prove something to myself that night, and you wouldn't let me. I needed your help. I couldn't do it myself…." She sobbed into her hands. I wanted to comfort her but I knew she would never let me touch her.

"You're mad about the game? You're mad that I stepped in so you wouldn't faint?" Blaise looked genuinely confused.

Daphne shook her head over and over again.

"Let me help you, Daphne."

I stopped Blaise from going near her. "You can't, Blaise," I told him, realizing something myself. "She's been like this for a long time. No one can help her."

"You didn't tell me that in your letters."

"I didn't—"

Daphne stopped crying abruptly. "What letters?"

"We were talking, trying to figure out what was wrong and help you—" I started.

"You went behind my back even when I told you to let it go! You _betrayed_ me! Why can't you ever let anything go, Astoria? What do you think, love makes the world go round? Mum and Dad will never love each other again and your mates will hurt you someday to protect themselves first! This world is built on fear. Won't you ever realize that you'll destroy yourself and our family if you don't accept that?!"

I balked at her outburst and backed into Blaise, moving down the stairs as she took out her wand. Blaise hovered in front of me with his own wand held out.

Daphne started flinging curses at us, every one which Blaise deflected with ease. Half of them did not even come close to reaching us but landed with searing impact into the walls. They were less magic and more odium.

A few students walking past the corridor had noticed the commotion and I spotted a Prefect running in the direction of Dumbledore's office. It would be the second fray I was involved in this month.

"Daphne, calm down," said Blaise. "We just wanted to help you!"

"You can't!" Daphne shrieked. "No one can help me!"

Blaise moved towards her, lowering his wand. "Daph, put down your wand. Whatever it is, I won't judge or hate you for it. Me and your sister both care about you."

For a split second, I thought she was going to listen. Maybe she would have even told us what was wrong.

But then her wand seemed to guide her hand—all those flung curses and hexes were not finished yet, and they were flung straight at Blaise and me—undefended and completely vulnerable to their elements.

There was a searing, white pain in my head and my heart was beating fast. I fell onto my knees and blood started gushing from my nose. I had had nose-bleeds before but I was still stunned. I scooted away from Daphne, pressing my robe to my nose to curb the bleeding.

Blaise was on the ground too, and he wasn't conscious. There was no visible wound but there was also no way of knowing if something was wrong.

Daphne tried to approach us, but I held my wand up, albeit it was quivering. I hid behind Blaise's body, covering him with my arms.

There was the sound of shoes and the room was filled with the swishing of robes. Students had gathered around us and a few professors pushed their way through. McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore had been summoned. Now it was Daphne who backed away.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on?" asked Professor McGonagall. "Astoria, can you get up?" I nodded, my robe still pressed to my nose, and let her help me onto my feet. Madame Pomphrey levitated Blaise onto a gurney and rushed him into the hospital room.

"Her wand lost control of itself," I blurted, blood still gushing from my nose. "We were casting spells for the Inquisitorial Squad." Daphne stared at me, half horrified and half incredulous. McGonagall tsked, but Snape narrowed his eyes at me.

McGonagall cast a healing spell on my nosebleed and it stopped immediately. The aching feeling in my heart did not.

"Albus, I believe we need to have a talk with Dolores," said McGonagall, "about the safety of our students."

"I believe she already has that figured out," said Dumbledore. "I suspect that by the time the night is over, she'll be having a talk with _us._ "

Snape grunted.

"Girls," said McGonagall, "would you please go back to your dormitories for the remainder of the night? And please, don't say a word of this to anyone."

I nodded and parted ways with Daphne, both of us embarrassed and ashamed. However, we were relieved as well. We had escaped further altercation narrowly, so long as Blaise did not reveal the truth. Daphne finally got what she wanted from me: Protection.

It was the first time I could remember acting like a Slytherin.

I figured that while I had started being a Slytherin, I might as well finish it. Instead of going back to my dormitory, I went back to Umbridge's office. Everyone else was still scouring the grounds for secret clubs like the KKK, so I was alone. " _Alohamora,_ " I murmured for good measure. The door opened with ease.

I then proceeded to stuff my robes with the pastries provided after every Inquisitorial Squad meeting. Then I stuffed my face with chocolatey goodness.

There is nothing in this world like being a Slytherin.

The door opened and I screamed, my mouth about to bite down on a half-eaten brownie.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" asked Draco Malfoy. I slowly and regrettably set the brownie down. "You almost got maimed by your sister and you come in here to _eat?_ "

"Don't judge my priorities."

Draco snorted without smiling. "If you're going to steal something, at least take the fruit tart. The brownies are _disgusting._ "

"How'd you know about my sister?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter how I know. Don't you want to know why she hates Blaise? Don't you want to know why your nose started bleeding when she casted a _hex_?"

"Well, yes…. But how would _you_ know?"

Draco rolled his eyes at me again; I should mean to tell him that if he kept it up, they might stay that way. "When someone can't cast a spell, even if their technique is wrong, something at least _related_ to the spell will go wrong. If you wanted to perform the Crutiatus curse, as an example, and you couldn't get the spell quite right, your experiment might … twitch." His eyes were far away.

"When you perform a hex wrong, something exaggerated happens. So when your nose started bleeding, it wasn't because your sister couldn't execute the spell right. It's because she can't execute _any spells._

"I've been watching Daphne for many years. Her grades were never good, but they're still better than Bullstrode's. She isn't an idiot. Her best subject is Herbology, where you don't do a damn useful thing. In Potions she's decent because you never use your wand. But in DADA—she either passed by wooing Lockhart or didn't pass at all.

"This year your sister's taken quite well to Umbridge, who's a twat to the highest degree. She's done the best in the class. _Better than me._ In First Year, she had to blow on the damn feather to make it levitate!"

Draco leaned across the desk, a piece of blond hair flopping in front of his face. My heart was beating fast. I always thought Malfoy was a little crazy, but I had no idea that he was totally insane.

"Have you ever noticed your sister's lack of ability to do magic?"

My mind skirted back in panic, as if I was Snape gazing upon my own thoughts. I searched in panic for anything used as a reference: Daphne had no trouble with the most basic of spells, but I had never questioned anything else because the only time I was her on a reliable basis was at home, where we could never use magic. Then I realized the lack of an answer was wanted from Draco in this supposed rhetoric question.

He stood up, placing his hair back in place. "That's what I thought. Astoria, your sister is a _Squib._ " I flinched at the word.

He didn't even give me a chance to take the news in. "Go ahead, ask her to perform a spell. Ask Dumbledore for her grades on final projects. I guarantee she'll fail her OWLs this year. Just you _watch._ "

"What does this have to do with me?" I asked.

"Do you see Daphne studying under Snape like you?"

I gasped. "You know about that?"

Draco rolled his eyes melodramatically. "You're really a terrible Slytherin, you know that? Snape has a lot of work with you."

"Well, what's your point then, _Maestro?_ " He almost seemed stunned at my outburst but quickly gathered back his composure.

"You might be a terrible Slytherin, but you're not a stupid one. You're studying with Snape for a reason. If … if _others_ find out that your sister is a Squib, your whole family will be worse off than Blood Traitors."

"Then why aren't you exploiting us?"

Draco hesitated, which I counted as a partial score. "There really isn't any proof."

"Then what am I supposed to do to protect her?" I said.

Draco looked me in the eyes in an unnerving fashion. "Overshadow her. Prove to him that you're better even though you're younger."

I had a creeping feeling of who he was talking about.

Draco moved towards the door. "Do yourself a favor and don't even tell your little friends we had this conversation. They wouldn't believe you, and even if they did, you'd regret it. A lot. And don't forget, you owe me a favor too now."

He didn't slam the door, but he might as well have closed it right in my face.

* * *

At breakfast the following morning, I saw Blaise looking a bit peakish but otherwise intact. I nodded to him sternly.

Just as I was seated, owls delivered letters to everyone Third Year and up at the Slytherin table. Lacey and I noticed that ours were postmarked the same, so we ripped them open in anticipation.

 _This is a formal invitation to the Malfoy's New Year's Eve Party._

 _Please dress accordingly._

The family's Coat of Arms was their signature.

It was the annual party my parents attended every year. I was supposed to be excited because I was old enough to go myself and it was an opportunity to meet boys young men. But this invitation was pretentious and assuming. Who was to say I was required to attend, know where they lived, know how to dress, and know who signed the letter?

I looked up to see Adrian at Lacey's side.

"That's right, you're old enough to go this year! You both must be excited to go."

"Yes," I said drily, "when I was a fetus, my sole mission was to be born so I could attend the Malfoy's New Year's Eve party."

Adrian laughed. "Who cares about the Malfoys? The fun in the party is all the things us young'uns get ourselves into." He winked. "Hasn't your sister told you about it?"

"Daphne doesn't like to talk to me, so no."

Adrian smiled at Lacey. "So, will I see you there?"

She nodded. "It doesn't seem like I'd have much of a choice to go anyway."

"Did he ask you out just now?" I asked her, rubbing my head. "Boy things confuse me so much."

Lacey shook her head. "Unfortunately not. But he's going to at the party. If we had just won our damn match, he would've asked me out then."

"Very anticlimactic."

Ethan arrived at breakfast then—he almost missed his pumpkin spice porridge. His hair was mussed up and he rushed in with dark circles under his eyes. I didn't want to be the one to inform him that he was wearing his pajama bottoms underneath his robes, but who else would have?

He sat down and I stared at the open letter in horror. But in his rush, Ethan was oblivious to them.

"What's wrong with you?" Lacey asked him.

Ethan stuffed cold porridge into his mouth. "So much homework," he said in between mouthfuls. "I want to pass my Arthimacy class."

"You mean you're not doing well?" I asked in feigned astonishment.

"I ace all my tests but never hand in any homework. Didn't know it counted towards so much but I guess that's how everyone else passes."

Lacey slowly moved her letter to her lap. Ethan picked up the one by my bowl and turned it over, expecting there to be more information.

"When we you gonna tell me about this?"

"I was just going to," I said.

"I take it you're going?"

"We have to, Ethan. Don't hold it against us. It's our 'obligation.'"

He put his spoon down. "Yeah, I get it. You and your 'Pureblood obligations.' You all have pretty dull lives, if you ask me."

"We can still get together if you like," Lacey said. "We don't want you to feel left out."

"And where would we get together, Lacey? In the ghetto part of Diagon Alley so no one can say they saw us together?" Neither of us knew what ghettos were but they did not sound pleasant.

"Please understand. This isn't our fault. It isn't easy for us, either."

Ethan sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take my anger out on you. I'm just mad that we can't act like regular friends outside of school, is all."

"What if we snuck him in?" I asked, talking mostly to myself.

Lacey's face lit up. "My brother has some facial reconstruction charms left over from Halloween! We could use those!"

Ethan looked skeptical. "And how would I get those?"

"She could send them through owl to 'me'," I said, using air quotes.

"How would I get into the party? They can't just let anyone in," Ethan said. He was so argumentative.

"They're the Malfoys. They don't think anyone who's unwanted will show up. I'm telling you, it has to work," Lacey said.

"I don't know if it's worth the risk. We'll probably just sit around while the Twenty-Eight takes turns competing on who's the best Pureblood of the bunch."

"Only the adults do boring things," I said. "Remember, they live in a palace." And it wasn't a fake palace like the Parkinson's.

"Okay. Say I hypothetically got into the house and posed as some Pureblood kid. Am I just going to sit and have a good time or are we actually gonna get up to some good old fashioned Slytherin mischief?"

We all looked at each other and I felt a surge of happiness snake through me.

* * *

 **A/N:** Apologies for the wait! Hope it was worth it. ;) Next chapter will be especially juicy.

Thanks for your question, **Guest!** I don't like to give many spoilers away, but I will tell you that this story will continue after the war. We are on the 15th chapter now and for each year they are in I write more material, so you should expect a lot of upcoming chapters.

Hope my .5 readers enjoyed Draco's _multiple_ appearances. I know I did. It's getting serious, folks.

If I get more than 1 review for this chapter, I'll fall off my broom! (And I promise no more HP puns.)

Happy Easter! Enjoy what is hopefully a long weekend. :)


	16. New Year's Eve Party

_Snape and I were in his office and the lights were dimmed. My mind was being pried opened, my life flashing before my eyes. He kept digging, digging until there was almost nothing left._

 _I held up my wand to his face, experiencing a strange sense of dissociation. For a moment, light shined upon his face._

 _Then a Dementor swallowed what was left of my mind._

I was sweating and it was almost 0 degrees Celsius.

It had been so long since I had been home that my bed felt stiff and foreign. It creaked as I made my way over to the paned window which overlooked the rose garden. Dusting snow covered the ground and flaked everywhere on this supposed perfect Christmas morning. The trellis beneath the window whispered winter-filled secrets, the pathway keeping cleared of snow by charms. The roses' redness stood out like berries in a white winter hymnal. Winter could not even kill their love. It was the true testament of magic being more powerful than magic, or perhaps the love binded through magic.

If only Daphne wasn't at Tracey's this Christmas. Then perhaps I could remind her of that day long ago when I set fire to the roses. We were so innocent and hopeful then.

Turning from the window, I pulled on a blouse and dress pants and headed downstairs. For Purebloods, New Year's Eve was a bigger event than Christmas. In the olden days when families were bigger and there was more incest, everyone would have a dinner because they lived in the same palace. But those immediate families which lived in their own houses kept to themselves until the momentous evening of the 31st.

My parents wished me a Merry Christmas when I arrived downstairs but I could tell they were just going through the motions. My father had work on his mind and Mum had conflicting feelings in general, and Daphne being away didn't help them. Since I was older and their marriage was already fragile, there was no more beauty in holidays anymore.

We each had special stockings embroidered with the Slytherin House colors as well as our family's emblem. Mine was the only one which was actually filled. It was quite slimmer than I remember, but of course I appreciated it.

My parents smiled when I opened my presents underneath the tree but everything felt so strained that I wanted to scream. However, I would rather this eerie silence than yelling the one time that I was home. It was good to know that they were making an effort for me, although it didn't help the dark feeling penetrating within my heart.

"We wanted to save this for last because it is the most expensive—" my father began.

"It's the best gift," Mum finished.

I already knew that I was a dress for the party and that they had concealed it to appear in a smaller package. This had to have been a mutual idea but for different motives. My father would never find it entertaining to shop for a dress and not just because of his masculine leanings but because it was unnecessarily expensive and would show off his youngest daughter. This only heightened my suspicions of Daphne being incapable of magic. My mother, however, might have just wanted me to have a nice dress.

Mum had to help me untie the ribbon because it was too tight. When it unfurled all the way, the dress flew out as if in a reversible vacuum. I gasped, even so, for magic is an extravagant sight. The dress hovered midair for a few moments before descending into my open hands. Mum helped hold it up so I could get a good look at it.

It was an off-white color with vinery flower indents of the same color for texture. It would fit over my curves enough to give them tasteful flavor without being like the dresses Pansy Parkinson wore. It had a gold clasp right near where minimal cleavage would be. It was almost sleeveless and went just above the knees. It was beautiful and perfect for me—displaying class without being ostentatious.

"Thanks, Mum and Dad!" I exclaimed, giving both of them a genuine hug.

"Most of the girls at the parties dress as if they don't want to show a bit of leg or that's all they want to show," my mum said. "I'd figure let them have a little in-between." My father was so lost in thought that he didn't even make a comment about not catching me in one of those latter dresses.

After posing in my dress to myself in my full-length mirror, Mum made me take it off in time for Christmas dinner. As I planted myself into my chair with silverware in hand and a growling stomach, my parents' grumbling came from inside the kitchen.

"This is why we should have a House Elf!" my father yelled, wafting around smoke from the oven. "We're living like the bloody Weasley's! All good Pureblood families have a House Elf and frankly, I'm embarrassed—"

"I don't need your feedback on my cooking. You used to like it—"

"When did I say anything about your cooking?"

I stared at the whiteness of my plate, squeezing my fork until I could no longer concentrate on their argument. Perhaps the entire predicament earlier in the week was not the only reason why Daphne decided to spend Christmas at Tracey's.

When dinner was put onto the table and we helped ourselves to multiple servings of everything, it seemed Christmas was finally coming together. Mum and Dad had quit arguing and good food abounded.

We were not even halfway through the meal when there was a knocking on the door. "This is why I want a House Elf…," my father trailed off, his seat making a screeching noise as he arose from the table. Apparently, it was too shaming for him to actually answer the door.

There was a clanking noise on the hardwood floors as someone made their way into the dining room. My mother's face turned downwards because they person had not taken their shoes off and the floor was kept immaculate during holidays.

My mouth dropped open, still full of food, when Lucius Malfoy alighted himself in our dining room. What could be so important that he was here on Christmas? And would he judge us, knowing Daphne was absent? My mind flashed back to the conversation I had with Draco. The information he had gathered was probably from his own father, and this would not help his already acute suspicions.

"Happy Christmas, Mrs. Greengrass," Lucius said. "And to you as well, Miss Greengrass." He smiled at me almost kindly. Even though it happened years ago, what he had done for me the day Daphne deserted me in the middle of Diagon Alley still resonated in my mind. The man might be a manipulator but he would not be outright mean to those he liked.

"Happy Christmas, Lucius," my mum said. "If you plan on staying, I'd be happy to set you a plate."

"Oh no, I only intend to stay a moment. I know this day is not ideal to discuss business, but something quite dire has come up at this crucial time. I came in here to request that your husband join me for a few hours at the Manor." My father looked irritated that he needed his wife's allowance for him to leave on Christmas. "There is something I need him for that must be taken of there."

"Well sir, what could be so important that—"

"I understand if it is too extreme a request, but please let me insist that your husband is the only man who can do the job correctly. To put it frankly, I need him." Were they just work buddies, or was Mr. Malfoy requesting to have an affair with my father?

"All right." Mum was too defeated about everything to care about Christmas anymore. "Go ahead and try to be back at a decent hour."

"You have my word," said Mr. Malfoy, bowing. My father seemed almost relieved and jovial, even, to leave us.

"We look forward to having you for the party," Mr. Malfoy told us. "I am especially glad that your daughter can attend this year." There was a sparkle in his eye when they Apparated away.

I looked at Mum, I looked at the food which was still steaming. It was too much to see her cry and I knew that both of us were not hungry anymore, so I took her wand and sent the dishes away before going upstairs to stare at the ceiling.

 _Stor!_

 _Lacey sent me the stuff. I tried it on already and everything works. I have the perfect plans for the party. We're gonna have a blast fucking with everyone. I've asked around, and there are always illegal games going on, so we might be able to blackmail, hex, and be rich by New Year's Day. I hope you're as excited to participate in illegal activities as much as I am._

 _Hope you had a good Christmas. I can't wait to tell you all I got and what's going on with my brother! It couldn't have been better unless you and your laugh were there._

 _-Niles Handley_

3 years later and it still was impossible to not be entertained with Ethan's alias while writing me. After lounging around since Christmas, it brightened me to see his letter. Ethan made me forget how I felt and where I was when I read his letters.

Someone knocked at the door of my room and then promptly entered. Father never came into my room when he wanted to discuss something with me! I scrambled, shoving the letter into my textbook.

"Astoria, can I talk to you?" I nodded, feeling strange. Whenever I talked with my father, it was formal and in his office. Did he forget that Mum had had the sex talk with me ages ago? " _I think a good analogy would be a wand and a…."_ This is what happens when fathers neglect their children—if it wasn't for mothers, girls my age wouldn't even have training bras.

He sat on my bed. This was so strange because this was what normal fathers did. I didn't know what to do. I almost felt guilty holding Ethan's letter inside my textbook, which was horrible on many accounts.

"How have you been at Hogwarts? Your mum has mentioned that this issue may be bigger than just—teenage rebellion or something. I didn't think of that. I never thought anyone would have the gall to attack my daughter."

"Things are fine," I lied. When someone catches you unaware, it is often too late to ask for help because they waited so long to care.

"If anyone ever bullies you, Astoria, you can tell either one of us. I know you might not be comfortable talking with me because of many reasons…. But I'm always here if you want to."

"Thank you."

"How have your meetings with Snape been going? Have they been helping?"

Of course this would be his next question. "They've been fine." Snape was supposed to be teaching me Occlumency but he seemed to think the essence of my thoughts needed more protection. But of course, Father didn't know any of that.

"It's important that you're taking them seriously. Your mum also said that you might be confused as to why I come across so … hostile at you sometimes. Well, I do it because I care about you."

"Why can't you be frank with me?" I asked. "Why can't you be frank and kind?"

"I want to be honest! But you're too young to understand. I want you to be protected."

"Or do _you_ want to be protected?"

"I want this whole family to be protected. Now, quit arguing with me just for the sake of argument. I know you're young, Astoria, and that the pressures I put on you may seem like a lot. But if only you listened without questioning so much, you'd understand."

"I need answers. Then I'll listen."

My father stiffened. "You shouldn't need answers. I'm your father and you should just obey. Curiosity killed the cat. You are not following blindly but following your family. Listen: you are capable of great things. You are a good witch, Astoria. You may not have the highest marks in the class, or the most cunning spirit. But you _are_ ambitious. I've seen it in your music. When you want something, your pursue it to no end. If you turned your stubbornness towards the world and me to what I ask of you, you'd be better off.

"I know that school isn't going as well as it could, no matter what you want to tell me. So, just try what I tell you, and see how it changes everything around you. The times are changing and you need to be prepared for anything. You want a future, don't you? As a Witch?"

"Yes…."

"Then you'll wish to stand out when the time comes. I want you to be an independent woman who will further the Wizarding World and I know that you can do it. You possess the best qualities of your mother and me."

"What about Daphne? Doesn't she?" I asked him.

My father stiffened again. "Yes, but your sister is far more cunning and much less ambitious. She doesn't see the big picture…."

"But she's older," I argued. "And just because she isn't ambitious doesn't mean anything. She's more steadfast."

"You do have your own opinions, but that can be a good thing, too," he said. "Daphne, she—"

"Is Daphne a Squib?" I asked outright.

Father was more stunned than anything. "No!"

I stood up, clenching my fists and squeezing my eyes tight as anger exploded within me. "Oh, stop it! Stop lying to me!"

"I'M NOT LYING!" He looked about ready to shake me. "If it wasn't for the party tomorrow, you'd be locked in this room!" He slammed the door, making the entire room tremble.

Shaking with fear, I held Ethan's letter to my chest. That was answer enough for me.

Daphne Floo'd home the night before the party and seemed reluctant to do so. However, she tolerated being home because Father had gone to Malfoy Manor again. Like a good daughter, she didn't inquire on his whereabouts.

Because she had been gone through Christmas, Daphne hadn't even seen her own dress yet. It was more extravagant than mine with a bit of glitter enthused in its bodice. Normally, she would have loved it, but tonight she just thanked Mum with a tight-lipped smile. I studied both of them as they unpacked, realizing that I had asked the right question to the wrong person.

"As your mum, I must tell you to use your manners tomorrow at the party. Treat it as if you might be meeting your prospective husband, even. Before you know it, you'll have to pick a career and be thinking about marriage. Hogwarts won't last forever and I want you both to have your choice of the bunch.

"Last year, Astoria, Daphne told me that she met a few nice young men that might be good for you. You're too young to dream of marriage, but think about striking up a correspondence. Once you meet someone, a thousand other doors open for you."

"Should I trust Daphne's opinions on boys for me?" I asked to lighten the mood.

Mum laughed but Daphne took it a bit too personally. I gulped, thinking of Blaise.

"I'm telling you," said Mum, "you can never go wrong with the French. That way, you would be able to marry right back with the Lestranges with common values."

"They aren't bad lookers either," said Daphne.

We spent a few more minutes talking until Daphne claimed that she was debilitated and wanted to get her beauty sleep for tomorrow. As soon as Mum shut the door, I pounced.

"Can I ask you a question about Daphne, Mum?"

She seemed surprised but was not defensive like Father. "Sure. I wish you were comfortable enough to ask her yourself, though."

"I don't think it's one of those instances…. Mum, is Daphne below-average in magic? Meaning, can she do any of it?"

"Are you asking if your sister is a Squib?" When I flinched, my mum nodded as if she was unsurprised.

"Your father did seem infuriated about something when he left. I figured that you must have pushed some button and that it was only a matter of finding out. Well, to answer your question, no. A Squib can't do any kind of magic and it is from birth. They are just deformed in this way.

"Your sister can perform very … amateur spells, but she can't do anything at all advanced. At first we just thought that there was a grading problem, so your father and I decided to have a meeting with Dumbledore. When he cited a few teachers informing us that your sister was smart and wasn't being lazy in her schoolwork but rather had a problem performing magic, your father threw a rage and was in denial. _His_ prized daughter, _his_ child, not being able—"

"What about you? Were you mad?"

"I was more scared than anything. Dumbledore explained to me, however, that this was something stemming from a specific instance which occurred. We're still in the process of pinpointing what we can do to help Daphne. For now, it is like living without a hand. She is capable of some things, but she is severely disabled. Dumbledore compared it to a child with a halt in their development. We need to not curb her symptoms but find what the true problem is.

"Daphne hasn't wanted me to tell you, Astoria, but I knew that it was time. But you mustn't tell her I did. I just feel you should know because it's your right. Your father disagrees. He figures, if you know, it could bring the secret about when it is only a matter of time for a cure. But who knows what will happen? I'd rather you know because I feel like you will have a better reason to help us.

"I know we're putting a lot of pressure on you in many matters, but it has to be this way until something better comes along. We're doing our best to protect you and your father has a hard time expressing that. He believes you'll be protected through ignorance, but I know you don't feel that way."

I had to hang onto something solid to take everything in. "Is this why he's so mad at you? Does he somehow blame you for Daphne?"

My mum sighed. "There are many facets of a marriage. There is never one reason why it falls apart. But having a scapegoat certainly doesn't help. At least—at least this isn't something that can't be fixed. Daphne, I mean. If it was from birth, I'm not sure what your father would have done."

"That's terrible, blaming you for something that has nothing to do with science, and even if it did—"

"You mustn't tell anyone about this conversation, Astoria. Do you promise me?"

I nodded, giving her my oath.

"Now get you to bed. We have a big day tomorrow."

* * *

At five minutes to seven the following evening, the Greengrass family stood in front of their fireplace. I felt beautiful and ready to conquer this night with my two best friends. My parents both appeared anxious about something, which is never how they usually went to this party. They were done up quite nicely but all of them, including Daphne, appeared miserable. Less than a year ago, my sister was more than ecstatic to be attending the Parkinson wedding—but look how that turned out. I promised myself to keep an eye on her tonight so that she would not be in danger. Guilt gnawed at me, even though there was no way I could have known how much Daphne did need me.

Ethan would also be Floo'ing to Malfoy Manor, from Merlin knows where. As I stepped into the fireplace and said commandingly, "Malfoy Manor," I thought that Ethan could be doing the same thing at that moment.

I landed in a gargantuan fireplace. It was just filled with my family, so the Malfoys must have had specific times for people to Floo. How organized. I stood in the back, trying to see over Daphne's head, when there was a sharp crack.

My parents were oblivious to the addition in the fireplace as they stepped outside, nodded to certain people who happened to be in the vicinity. This room was quiet and seated people on couches who wished to talk in quiet.

Daphne turned around, raising one eyebrow, a feat which I was incapable of. I tried not to cringe at the appearance of a taller and much … girlier version of Ethan. He had bleached hair similar to the Malfoy's and close to Lucius's length, complete with a dainty nose and hazel eyes. Even if this was supposed to look good, Ethan wasn't a pretty girl by any means.

"You're hopeless," she said, knowing full well who it was. Then to Ethan, "No girl would come here in a pantsuit. I suggest you go straight up to the bedrooms and sabotage their wardrobes for something more presentable."

Even Ethan looked surprised at her willingness to help. "Sure, uh, thanks," he whispered.

As we emerged from the fireplace, I was overwhelmed with the sanctimonious air of the singular room. There were portraits of Malfoy descendants all the way back to the Middle Age and the ceiling was so high that I had trouble seeing the top of it. This was nothing like the Parkinson's house—this was the real Pureblood deal. And if _I_ was astounded….

Ethan put his hand on my shoulder to steady himself.

"Meet you in the ballroom in a few minutes," I whispered to him. "My parents have to show me off to adults that haven't seen me since I was an infant first." He nodded and scurried in the opposite direction, running into people in the busy corridor. How would he ever find the upstairs, let alone a wardrobe?

We made our way into the dining hall. My parents introduced me first, and Daphne after, as if I was the eldest. I shook people's hands and smiled as the conversed with my parents about the olden days where there were parties like this one every month. They must have known Daphne was the older sister but they still gravitated towards me because their subconscious, Pureblood minds directed me as such. I was quite charming, if I do say so myself. Everyone made assumptions about me from the way I have always looked—studious, quiet, and smart. Since I was also beautiful tonight, they counted me as good breeding. My parents prompted me to inform them on my schooling at Hogwarts. To my surprise, Daphne was not angered by me taking the attention—and I was not bothered by it either.

In my family's defense, the Parkinson's approached us first.

"Why, look at your girls!" Mr. Parkinson exclaimed, already intoxicated. "How big they've grown, and we've just seen them over the summer!" Mrs. Parkinson kept an apathetic face because her daughters weren't as pretty or well-bred as us. I mean, _what_ was Pansy wearing?!

"Pansy, I'm surprised you're not pouncing on Daphne! The girls can hardly go a day without talking to each other!" Parents who were not smart enough to realize when friendships were broken were almost as frustrating as the children who didn't inform them.

"Hello, Daphne," Pansy said, curtseying.

"Pansy," Daphne nodded curtly. Mrs. Parkinson was the only one who seemed to notice that something was amiss.

"Well, we're off to eat!" Mr. Parkinson exclaimed. "Nice seeing you."

My parents both let out air when the Parkinson family passed us. Our parents disagreed on everything under the sun but they both could only handle the Parkinson's in small doses.

"Ah, the Greengrasses are here!" Mrs. Malfoy said with an air of grace. Her beautiful face terrified me tonight in her black satin dress that only glittered when the right lighting shined upon it. A prickling feeling went over me when I realized I might have to be this way someday—exclaiming things without volume or passion. Daphne had always held this role before. I was being illogical, but my palms started sweating and I felt clammy.

My father was undoubtedly in love with her. A lump formed in my throat. "Mrs. Malfoy, you are the picture of grace tonight." He never talked like that. I had always figured my father incapable of it.

"Why thank you, Mr. Greengrass." My mum was not blind to this exchange and I was glad that Mrs. Malfoy made no move for my father to kiss her palm.

"And so are your girls," noted Mr. Malfoy. He appeared to size both Daphne and I up but his eyes sparkled at me again. I was probably psychotic but it seemed that we had an ongoing joke between us as we realized this act was all a farce.

Mum thanked them, but Father made a comment on the expense of the dresses being worth it.

"Draco, I'd watch out for them," Mr. Malfoy said, but he was staring at me the whole time.

I had not even noticed that Draco was with his parents until now because they seemed to occupy all my attention like a magical charm around their bodies. He was dressed in an Italian suit and his hair was parted back with too much grease. He did not seem to be happy making the rounds with his parents and seemed embarrassed by his father's comment. Daphne smirked, reveling in it.

"Can I see you after you've finished eating?' Mr. Malfoy asked my father. He nodded and we all parted. What on earth could he want to talk to him about privately at a New Year's Eve party that couldn't wait?

My parents told me and Daphne that we could get our food, which was our signal that we could do what we wanted now. The dining hall was dizzying because of the stimulation therein. Servants floated around with appetizers, women in dresses that stretched out twice their size flitted about, and the oldest Purebloods complained at various tables to their waitresses. Daphne and I went to serve ourselves. The food was better here than at the Parkinson's where no one knew what anything was. Here it was less pretentious.

To Daphne's dismay (we were not supposed to stuff ourselves if we wanted to attract boys, but I was unconcerned), I filled my plate with baked bread, salad, Utica greens, shrimp, pulled pork, and fettucine. There were many other options I would have been happy to take. After we were done filling our plates, I looked at the grandfather clock centered on the wall. It had been almost half an hour since we arrived. Stuffing my face, I made my way over to the ballroom.

Daphne gripped my arm. "Don't spill anything. And whatever you're up to with that transvestite friend of yours, be careful. And here, take this." She shoved my own wand inside my hand and I didn't question it.

"Thanks, Daphne. I will." I headed towards the ballroom, meandering around an uncomfortable amount of people. This party was more lax than the Parkinson's. I bet Ethan was surprised to know that Purebloods know how to have a good time once they drink a little bit. When I made it outside the ballroom, I looked around for Ethan and Lacey, thinking. Maybe Daphne had been right all those times I felt she was attacking me. Maybe we were both learning.

"Stor!" Lacey shrieked. "Give me some of that, I'm starved!" She took a bit of fettucine with her fingers and I swatted her off.

"Get your own," I hissed.

"A true lady is a defensive bitch when it comes to her pasta," said Ethan. When I saw him, I spit out what was in my mouth.

Ethan had found a wardrobe, all right. He was dressed in a sparkling red dress reminiscent of a woman named Marilyn Monroe he showed me once. There were furs sprawled about his shoulders and he tottered on ruby red heels. With the use of Lacey's prosthetics, he had better cleavage than us.

"You're a hotter woman than us!" Lacey laughed.

"I know," Ethan replied. He started humming "Sweet Transvestite."

After getting over the initial shock, I felt a bit uncomfortable and confused without knowing why.

"Hurry up and eat," Ethan told me. The gold clasp of my dress reflected in his eyes. "There's about to be a game of hide and seek upstairs."

"Hide and seek?" asked Lacey with a frown.

"In Malfoy _Manor._ You know how lit that is?" I ignored his strange vocabulary, stuffing my face with bread. It was hard to eat from a golden plate while standing up, so Ethan volunteered to hold it for me.

"Don't you guys want some food?"

Ethan shook his head. "I have to keep up my figure."

"My mum told me that I was limited to a certain amount of calories tonight," said Lacey. "So I'm saving them all for dessert."

"How would she know?" asked Ethan.

"There are eyes everywhere." I nodded. Ethan seemed disgusted by the proposition of limiting calories to appear sophisticated at a Malfoy party.

After I finished, I left my plate for a servant and we headed upstairs. The staircase was picturesque and romantic. I felt like a Queen climbing it, especially because I had to rest at the top and collect my food baby. We spiraled around the ballroom floor and were so close to the chandelier we could touch it. When we made our way to the top, Ethan informed us that everyone had gathered in Draco's room.

When we went inside, there were a mirage of students from Hogwarts as well as a few from Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and even Koldovstoretz. Draco was in the process of explaining the game when we entered. His room, or more accurately wing, was quite drab with the exception of posters of Salazar Slytherin, Viktor Krum, and other men I could care less about. We signed a sheet going around with our names so that they would know who to look for. Ethan smirked, signing his name as Dr. Frank-N-Furter.

Draco explained that we could hide anywhere at all within Malfoy Manor but the areas adults occupied were off-limits. There were three Seekers—one that searched for those who were hidden and the others who guarded the Safe Zone. The Safe Zone was unrevealed to us but they passed out a riddle for us to find it. Because half of the Ministry was at the Malfoy residence tonight, they were able to keep quiet for us to use our wands. Once we found the Safe Zone, we could duel the Seekers to get past them and then win. Apparently, no one had won for years. If someone did win, they would get "a prize of their choosing." Since this was so poorly planned, we supposed no one had ever won. Ethan had a hard-set look of determination on his face.

Whoever lost by either getting found or not making it to the Safe Zone, which would likely be everyone, owed one of the Seekers a favor. I shivered, picturing myself owing Malfoy not one, but two favors.

The three Seekers, Draco, Blaise, and Marcus Flint, turned around and began counting to 100. Everyone chattered in high-pitched whispers, floating away from the room. Ethan took Lacey and I by the arms and catapulted us down the corridor. We found ourselves back near the chandelier.

"Lacey, would you please sit on the banister?" Ethan asked her. He dusted off his wand and murmured silent spells, causing little pieces of the chandelier to be unscrewed and float in the air. This reminded me of the day in First Year when Ethan Transfigured the Gryffindors into roaches. It seemed that sometimes he just had to remind us how much of a genius he was.

Lacey appeared terrified but she did as he said. At this point, half the Manor's residents were intoxicated, so no one passing this strange phenomenon when the center fissure of the chandelier came undone.

"Astoria," Ethan said, sweating a bit, "could you levitate Lacey inside the chandelier before I drop this on someone?"

Steeling myself, I got out my wand and concentrated to levitate Lacey off the ground. "Put me down!" she screamed.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," Ethan said. "Stor?"

I cast a body-binding charm on Lacey so she could not speak. She thrashed about in the air until I dropped her inside the chandelier. Her body made a thudding noise, causing the chandelier to swing from side to side. I looked away.

Ethan poked small holes into the chandelier piece so Lacey could breathe when he placed it on top of her. Smaller pieces flitted back where they belong and the chandelier seemed to have an extra sheen when it was replaced. Without letting me un-cast the charm on Lacey, Ethan pulled me by the hand and dragged me far deeper into the Manor. By now, the Seekers were probably done counting.

"I scoped the place out before meeting you," Ethan huffed, kicking off his heels. We had reached the third floor. It smelled dank on this level and felt haunted. We were alone.

Ethan pulled out a door that went into the wall. "This is an old-fashioned hamper. I doubt they use it anymore. They send the clothes down this chute. There's a box you can sit in. They'll never find you here."

"What are you gonna do while I sit here trying not to die of fear?"

"I'm gonna figure out this riddle and screw around with everyone else. The Seekers won't know who I am, remember?"

"Be careful, Ethan," I told him. I gripped his hand. If it wasn't for his familiar grip, I would not have recognized him at all. He smiled and then seemed to snap out of something when we heard footsteps. I got into the box and he closed the door. I heard Ethan's footsteps fade and crouched inside the box, worried that someone might open the vent and then discover me.

It smelled terrible inside here; why did Lacey get to be claustrophobic inside a chandelier and me inside this disgusting thing? I promised myself that Ethan would get it if I ever got out of here. I never pictured myself kissing anyone at midnight, but I would be damned if I was stuck inside a hamper like some kind of—

Was that a cobweb my hand just gripped? It was pitch-black and I pictured a half-dead spider scuttling over the floor of the box. My feet already were in agony from being pressed against the insides. How long would this take? What did I do to deserve this? If I wasn't so terrified, I might have found myself entertaining as I pictured rats scuttling around.

What was that noise?

Was it rats?

Was it a bird?

Were spiders crawling on my skin?

No, it was voices coming from far away. My interest piqued, I started to stand up to get a better vantage point. What were they—?

The hamper creaked and suddenly I was falling fast. My body was flung to the back and I was jostled inside as it whipped from side to side. It felt like it was about to become unhinged, and then I would be floating in the middle of the universe—

The hamper thudded against the ground and everywhere erupted in pain. My heart was fluttering madly. I was thankful that I was intact, but I was waiting to be discovered. They would think I had been eavesdropping on their conversation.

When no one stopped speaking or made an effort to approach the vent, I sighed in relief. Perhaps they were in another room adjacent to the one I was in. My heart was not quiet for long, however, when I caught on to what they were talking about.

"The Dark Lord would be infuriated if he knew a Mudblood was in his own House," growled a coarse voice. "We must do something about it."

"What is there to do, Carrow?" said Lucius. "We all know Dumbledore is too old and daft and McGonagall too accepting—"

"Perhaps Snape?" asked another voice. This one was high and broken.

"No, I do not want Severus involved. Dumbledore might already suspect that he is working with us. We will just have to wait for justice to be done, and then the boy may serve as an example."

"You wouldn't feel the same way if the boy was in your son's year," Father said. I reached out in the dark, feeling like I could touch them.

"I understand where you come from, Greengrass. But the boy is not dangerous but a nuisance and a taint on our House. It only shows that we must enforce our values on the children so they will know what is expected of them. The Dark Lord believes that these types of challenges will make our children stronger so they may not happen again. Do not tell me you are all afraid of a thirteen-year-old boy?"

"I'm not afraid, I'm just angry!" exploded another voice.

"Have faith that the Dark Lord will deliver. Now, has everyone been brushing up on their … skills? We must be prepared for anything. Potter can be unpredictable and we all know that the abrupt luck he has that is responsible from his friends and not his own magical abilities is most unprofessional."

The men murmured among themselves obscenities about Harry Potter.

"Good, because I want to see those skills put into action after you all get over your hangovers tomorrow. Now, if you will, let us go enjoy more of tonight. After you, Ilminster."

I hugged my knees to my chest for a while, thinking over everything they had discussed. I always knew my father thought Ethan was filth and it was nothing new. But what did this new development mean? What did these men plan to do to him? Things were not about to get better for Ethan.

Of course the talk relating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named with Ethan did not surprise me. Of course, I knew Snape was preparing me for the return of a darker force and that my father was never home because he was discussing this development with Mr. Malfoy and the rest of the … Death Eaters. I was not even born yet when You-Know-Who disappeared. But to hear his name gave certainty to the power rising. I would have to somehow alert Ethan and Lacey of what I heard. I had to make sure that Ethan was protected somehow, even though I hated picturing him not returning to Hogwarts.

I could not stand the hamper any longer. It had been long enough, anyway. I kicked the vent open and tumbled into a closet. Dusting myself off, I peeked outside. Ethan would have no way of finding me whether I stayed in the hamper or not, so I decided to find him. I put on heavy clothes over my dress, complete with a hooded mask, and ventured outside of the closet.

When I emerged from the room, I found that I was inside the lobby and near the foyer. The dining hall was off-limits to hiding but it was not off-limits to wander about. I saw my father had already found my mum again and everyone else was merrily drunk. The ballroom was full of couples who had not fallen over yet. I looked up at the chandelier, picturing Lacey still writhing around inside it.

Someone grasped my arm and started swinging me around the dancefloor. It was Ethan. The way he held me reminded me of a girl couple, making me stifle a snort.

"What the bloody hell are you doing? The Seekers are everywhere. I was just about to get Lacey," he said between his teeth.

"Ethan, I—" I could not speak or I would have started crying.

Features similar to Ethan's expression filled his face. "What's wrong, Stor?"

"I'll tell you later."

"Come on, then. Let's get Lacey out of this chandelier."

"She's gonna kill us," I said. Ethan shrugged as if the prospect did not bother him. We spun around the dance floor as he moved his wand around subtly underneath him and told me to watch for Seekers. The chandelier began to disassemble again.

"You'll never guess how many people I found and turned in," Ethan said. "And how many times I screwed with the Seekers. They've switched about twenty times. After I poured punch on Malfoy's head, I—" Ethan stopped talking as he undid the charm put on Lacey and placed her onto the banister. The chandelier went back together again and Lacey ran down to meet us.

"I'm going to strange you both," she said, but she was laughing.

"Hurry," Ethan said. "We've got to get down to the basement unseen." He handed Lacey a disguise and we made our way through the dining hall and back to the lobby. We ran down the corridor until we were about to reach the basement door when a foot stepped in front of us.

It was Blaise.

"You sly little shits!" he exclaimed. "Nice tits," he told Ethan. "You better hurry down. There's only a few other people left to be found."

Ethan looked disgruntled but we made our way down the creaking stairs anyhow. "We have to get through there," he whispered, pointing to where the two Guards, Malfoy and Flint, waited. "Once we get past them, we win."

"What do we win again?" I asked.

"I don't care. I just want to see Malfoy's face when we do." Before we could ask what the plan was, Ethan shot a curse at the two boys, smoke exploding in our faces. He pounced out from behind the stairs and began dueling them. They seemed extra angry.

"So you're Dr. Frank!" exclaimed Marcus. "But who are you, really?"

Lacey and I kicked off our heels and began to approach them. Ethan was not having a hard time fending both of them off but we helped him by flinging defensive spells in his direction and also casting away ones that did not reach him.

"No wonder why your sister isn't playing!" Draco yelled when he saw me. My friends threw me confused glances.

"You're right, Malfoy. My sister isn't a _child!_ " Ethan howled in laughter.

"That's no girl!" Marcus shouted, horrified at Ethan's laugh.

After this revelation, Lacey and I made it past the two boys and touched the wall. We had won. I gave her a high-five.

"Put your wand up, now!" Draco ordered Ethan. "The game's over and you're about to be exploited." Marcus sent up a signal with his wand, alerting players to come to the basement. When everyone came down and saw us, they circled around us and hooted, wanting them to give us a prize.

"Cheaters don't get a prize," said Draco.

"It's not their fault you didn't recognize their disguise," Blaise argued.

"Fine, they can get a prize. But first, the _girl_ needs to take off her disguise."

Ethan grimaced. "Sorry Malfoy, but I'm not interested in you like that."

"I got it," I said. "We forfeit the prize at having them remain anonymous."

"Must be a pretty big deal who they are, then," said Niles Handley. I wanted him to get lost; he must have known that it was Ethan.

"Fine," said Draco, and everyone gasped at how easily he seemed to let it go. "But don't think that means you're off the hook. I _will_ find out who it is, and if they were even allowed to be at this party. And once I do, you're _all_ going to be in deep shit. That's a threat _and_ a promise."

Both of my friends seemed too stunned to move, so I took them by the arms and brought them upstairs. My own father was a bully, so I was not afraid of Malfoy when he was unable to do anything about this yet. The clock must have struck midnight because everyone was toasting each other in the dining hall and couples embraced in kisses. Now that Daphne and I were on better terms, perhaps tomorrow morning we would talk like real sisters about all the boys she might have kissed.

We wished each other Happy New Year as we walked into the fireplace room. I turned around when someone called Lacey's name. It was Adrian.

"I was looking all over for you tonight, Lacey," he said. "Where were you?"

"Probably right above you," she replied. "I was inside that chandelier."

Adrian laughed. "I told you you'd have a good time."

"I don't know if I'd call stuck-in-a-chandelier-with-a-body-binding-charm a good time."

"You've got wonderful friends."

Ethan cleared his throat. "Hello?"

"Care to have your first New Year's dance with me?" Adrian asked, holding out his hand. Lacey nodded coolly but I knew inside she was a mess of excitement. I watched Adrian take my friend away to dance and felt something inside my heart deflate. Ethan and I walked over to the fireplace. He stepped inside.

"Care to kiss a girl on New Years? They always say to do something—"

"Uh, no." I tore off his wig and his prosthetic nose. There, that was a little better. "Happy New Year's, Ethan Travers." I threw up some Floo Powder and he disappeared.

* * *

 **A/N:** Wow, what a chapter! I hope this updated satisfied you! If you feel like scarring yourself, look up "Sweet Transvestite" on Youtube. It's a song from _Rocky Horror Picture Show._ In case anyone was wondering how a person can fit inside a chandelier, has anyone seen _The_ _Phantom of the Opera_? It's entirely possible. (Btw, if any readers like the Beatles, check out my other fic on my page!) **Thanks so much for your reviews!**

Ask one character a question for this chapter and I will answer it in the next one. :)

 **Review, review! I can't wait to hear your thoughts. Hope everyone is having a great Thursday.**


	17. Little Notes Can Kill You

Daphne slipped through a slit of darkness and into my room the next morning. My eyes stung and my sinuses hardened from the late night and the biting cold of the New Year. She sat on my bed, twirling her hair like I did when I was pensive. It had been years since we had talked like real sisters are probably supposed to but I knew the scene with a sense of familiarity. She started telling me about all the boys she danced with and the special conversations she had with them. I caught snippets here and there but never managed to pay attention for long. I shivered, playing over my version of the night inside my head.

Daphne gave an airy laugh and I turned to her, smiling. Moments like these were challenging because I knew they would not last and that they were an artificial semblance of what used to be between us. For once one has dictated what a relationship looks like from the outside, there is no going back to the old days. When we returned to Hogwarts, we would perhaps at the most nod to each other in the corridor.

When the light began to seep in through the windows and could not be kept out, Daphne slithered out of my room. I rose from my bed, feeling coldness seep into my bones. I wondered how the roses were never susceptible from it because I doubted even true love could be.

Boomerang landed on the windowsill and I quickly pushed it open for him to get inside. He carried with him a bundle of letters from Lacey and Ethan about the previous night. Scanning through them, it seemed they were ecstatic to return to school. I pried open my trunk and turned on the iPod to listen to music as I threw in miscellaneous clothes and items that I wanted to bring with me for the commencement of the second semester. Mum would be appalled at the wrinkled mess of my trunk (which barely closed) but I could not bring myself to care. I slammed my arse on it so it would close and sat on it for a moment, catching my breath. Boomerang shuffled around in the letters and touched my hand with his beak motioning that there was one I had missed.

 _I know it's the Mudblood._

The parchment was tossed from my hands as if it had leprosy. I began writing frantically to Lacey and Ethan but tore up my drafts. The one sentence Draco Malfoy had written terrified me and contained all the threats and dreams anyone could ever fear. This was blackmail and to tell someone of this with the chance it could get intercepted could hurt not just me, but my friends. I cursed Draco with his blond hair and grey eyes, wishing I could tear out that hair and squeeze out those eyes.

But most of all I was scared.

* * *

"Astoria, are you listening? I said I wanted a picture of you two near the train." I snapped out of my trance and got next to Daphne near the train. She managed to snake her arm around me without cringing much and we both plastered on smiles. Flurries began dusting onto the ground and it was the perfect cozy winter weather to be riding a train back to Hogwarts. If only I was relaxed.

When the picture was done, Daphne embraced Tracey Davis and they climbed onto the train together. I remained with my parents as they tried to lecture me. Of course because I was the daughter capable of magic and the one who still had promise in life, they were concerned about my wellbeing.

"School does get harder, Astoria. We want you to concentrate on your studies and do well this semester. Take advantage of the teachers and students who are willing to help you, especially Snape. Go to Quidditch matches and have pride for your House. I know that you already understand these things, but as parents it's important for us to tell you again." For once it was impossible for me to tell the difference between Mum and Father. I nodded, trying to take their advice to heart but knowing as soon as I got back to Hogwarts for a few days it would be procrastination and complaints all over again.

I gathered my suitcase in hand, feeling alone among a myriad of students piling onto the train. It began chugging as I walked down the corridor towards the Slytherin section, which I was not exactly comfortable entering after the attention I had received New Year's Eve. A few people stared at me but only because my suitcase was bigger than I was. Lacey's laughter gauged just where her and Ethan were located. Getting closer to my sanctuary, I rushed over to the compartment, my suitcase banging against everything interrupting its pathway. I stopped abruptly.

Draco Malfoy was right in front of me.

I froze but then realized there was nothing he could threaten or say in front of everyone around. It would alert too much attention.

"You suitcase is in my way, Greengrass," he drawled. I hauled it to the right so he could pass and watched as he sauntered in his tailored robes down the aisle. Just as I was about to slide open the door, Ethan beat me to it.

"Stor, Stor!" He hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe. I mean, I always appreciate a good hug but hadn't we just seen each other two days ago? Once he let me go, Ethan grabbed my suitcase and brought it into the compartment. Before I could sit down he was already babbling about the New Year's Party. After a few minutes, Lacey rolled her eyes.

"Ethan, you realize that you're the only one who actually had a good time playing that game, right? I was stuck in a chandelier and Astoria was Merlin knows where. Not to mention, we almost got killed _and_ found out. Now I wish I had just spent the entire night dancing with Adrian."

"How'd that go, by the way?" I asked.

"Well, we're going out now, so I'd say good."

I jumped up. "How come you didn't mention this in your letter? This is great news! Yay, Lacey has a boyfriend!"

"Shh," she blushed. "What if he stops by and hears you talking like we're twelve year-old girls?"

"Well—" Ethan began.

"Did you kiss?" I asked.

Lacey blushed again. "It wasn't much."

"I can see you're just enamored with him," said Ethan.

Lacey rolled her eyes again. "A kiss is a kiss. It wasn't like the ones you see in movies or like Olivia did to _you,_ Ethan."

Ethan appeared distraught for a moment but regained himself quickly. "You mean he didn't French you? Pity."

"In the real world you don't French someone you haven't even gone out wit yet!"

"Not in the real world," I said, "but maybe in a perfect one."

"Not in my opinion," said Ethan. Now Lacey and I both rolled our eyes.

Adrian did end up visiting for a while and we started up a card game which I failed at miserably. Ethan and Adrian did the best at the strategy games but I had the best reflexes for the Muggle game Slapjack which Ethan taught us. Adrian was older and so he had money and assets so we were able to binge on chocolate frogs and flavored jelly beans. He put his arm around Lacey at one point and it just stayed there. It made me feel even more uncomfortable than watching a couple make out in the hallways at school because it seemed like such a tender moment of first love. This was not some Sixth Year I hardly knew but my best friend. Unlike Ethan's fling with Olivia, this was something real.

When Adrian left, Lacey leaned back her head and let out one of her real laughs, the ones that went deep inside herself and belted out all the goodness in the world and made you forget there might be any evil. I stuffed an umpteenth frog into my mouth.

"I like your boyfriend, Lacey."

Ethan had turned green a long time ago and flung open the window, upchucking a bit. "Me too," he murmured. I was a bit concerned and patted his back.

"Just wait until someone introduces him to Firewhisky," whispered Lacey.

"I don't know if that's safe, considering he's thrown up over candy," I replied.

* * *

The carriage was so crowded with Slytherins that I had to sit on Lacey's lap because our suitcases took up the remainder of space left. Ethan's face was still green but it was because the other occupants of the carriage happened to be Harper Lee, Malcolm Ilminster, Olivia, and Niles Handley. There was a silent tension between us as the carriage jostled us towards the grounds, driving itself as usual. My father explained once that there were animals which led the carriage but it was impossible to truly believe until I had seen them with my own eyes.

"I can't feel my arse anymore," said Lacey, switching me over to Ethan's lap. I felt safe from the others when he settled his hands hesitatingly but gently upon my waist.

"You into Muggleborns, Greengrass?" sneered Malcolm.

"You into boys, Ilminster?" I shot back.

Niles leaned over to whisper something into Olivia's ear but it came out so we could hear it. "You hear that, Liv? Astoria Greengrass likes to fuck Mudbloods."

Suddenly I was tossed back in Lacey's direction. Ethan stood with his wand pointing at Niles. Niles put his hands up because he did not reach for his own quick enough but he did not seem afraid. Ethan stepped closer to him, stepping firmly where the carriage jostled underneath us.

"Don't ever say that again. You can say all you want about me, but her—don't." I stopped breathing and was thankful when the tension seemed to release a bit and Ethan lowered his wand.

"Looks like she needs a Mudblood to defend her too," added Niles, and then blood was gushing out of his nose.

We had stopped by the entrance of Hogwarts by then and Snape spotted the commotion. This was no regular bloody nose; Niles's was undoubtedly broken in several places and he was crying. He took Ethan by the ear and pushed Niles ahead, curbing the bleeding with a charm and fixing his broken nose. Niles screamed with the sharp pain but had no time to gather himself before they were motioned inside. When we had gotten down from the carriage, we saw that Olivia had waited for us.

"Niles is an arsehole," she said before scurrying off towards the Great Hall. It was as much as an apology as I was ever going to get from anyone.

We settled down in our regular seats. I was so upset from what had happened between Ethan and Niles that I could not even bring myself to eat and was not even watching out for Draco Malfoy. We sat down for a quiet dinner, Lacey did not say much about Adrian, either.

"This is getting bad," I told Lacey when we pushed away our uneaten food. "You realize that, don't you?"

"Of course. And with everything else going on, it'll only get worse."

* * *

"Did you know Trelawney's on probation?" whispered Fay. We were sifting through nonfiction in the library from the latest barrage of projects we had gotten from our professors. We plopped a mound onto a table in the back, much to the chagrin of Madam Pomphrey's ears. I shook my head, disgusted with Umbridge. Now when we entered her classroom, she checked to make sure we were following dress code and collected our wands.

"I don't care for Trelawney, but it's still awful."

Fay flipped through a few books and I coughed at the dust. "She's taking over the bloody school."

Astrix invited himself over to our table. "She's not the only one with a power trip. It's the entire Ministry and not to mention, a lot of other teachers too. That's why—do you mind stepping aside, Astoria?"

"That isn't fair! What secrets can't I hear, Astrix?"

"Plenty. Now, scat." I waited for Fay to stick up for me and saw it was not going to happen.

I slammed my books closed. "You're a mean person, Astrix Akron! And to think they wonder why us Slytherins are so defensive over everything!" Madam Pomphrey called my name with wrath after I had raised my voice towards Astrix and he snickered accordingly.

After getting yelled at by a choleric library matron, I made my way to the Great Hall to conclude my lunch. Ethan had not showed for breakfast but was attending classes. However, he would always leave before I had a chance to talk with him. There was a tight knot in my stomach about what had occurred the night before because perhaps he blamed me for whatever reason. It would be ridiculous, of course. But you never know with people.

I sighed in relief when Ethan was sitting in his regular position at the table. Of course he could never resist pulled pork lunch day at Hogwarts. I sat down beside Lacey with my variety of research books and tried to regain a semblance of what our friendship usually was before the drama.

"Did you hear Trelawney's on probation?" I asked. Lacey nodded.

"I could care less," said Ethan while stuffing his face. "But I think how a professor has that amount of power isn't acceptable."

"How can Hogwarts stop the Ministry?" I asked.

"Someone has to stop that Umbitch." I spit up a bit of milk. "Then the power that stretches from the Ministry to Hogwarts won't have as much influence."

"How do we stop Umbitch, then?"

"We don't. The circumstances will soon enough. I won't pretend anymore with you lot. I'm sure you know as well as I do that Harry Potter has told the truth. Once the Ministry is forced to realize it, they'll step back because they won't want anything to do with being responsible for anyone's danger."

We had always avoided the subject of You-Know-Who in conversation. Everyone else would debate about whether Harry Potter was telling the truth but it was mostly the older students' concern. My mum had even admitted it to me while describing why my father was so concerned about my magical abilities. However, it was not made real until someone stopped romanticizing it. My vision closed in a little because I had been numbing myself and putting this out of my head for so long—just as Snape had wanted. But it was a reality that would materialize soon and I would have to deal with it instead of being an ignorant contemporary.

At the mention of the Dark Lord, Lacey turned and began talking with several Slytherins in Second Year who were quite homely.

Ethan quieted, eating his pork more slowly but not seeming to enjoy it. I decided I might as well break the silence even if it was filled with pessimism. "What happened after you were both dragged in here?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Ethan—"

"I'm not punished or anything. So no worries. Everything is fine."

"But it isn't," I snapped at him.

He sighed, throwing his fork to the side. "Astoria, I want you to stay out of this. It isn't good for you to even be seen with me, let alone fighting my battles. So let it go and _shut up,_ for God's sake."

I stood up, trying to prevent the waterworks from happening. Ethan stared at his half-eaten food so he would not have to look me in the eyes, so I had no clue what he was thinking himself. I gathered my books and the remainder of my food and started upstairs blindly. The bloody staircase almost caused my premature death and before I knew it I was in front of Snape's room. What was I _doing_ here?

My knuckles rapped at the door.

"Enter," came a murmur from inside the room. "Greengrass, I must say I am surprised to see you volunteering yourself to be in my presence. There must be something quite trying on your mind. Daresay I suggest it involve your schoolwork?"

"Professor, I, uh … do you know exactly what happened yesterday?" My stomach was on the floor and the floor was upside down and little black spots were floating everywhere.

"Could you be more specific?"

"Between Ethan and Niles. I mean, do you know what was said?"

"I know that your little friend punched a boy in the nose, yes."

My arms gave out and my books toppled onto the laboratory table. "It was because he insulted me in a … vulgar way. Ethan was fine at first and just told him to stop, but then he insulted me again and he punched him."

"Your point?"

"I want this to stop and I don't know who—who else to go to." I looked down.

"Look me in the eyes," Snape growled. "You are a member of the Twenty-Eight and have nothing to be ashamed of." I looked up, a bit surprised of his uplifting revelation. "What would you like to stop?"

"People hating Ethan for being Muggleborn, and—and things with my sister too. She isn't the best at magic, I'm sure you know that. I want to take the attention off them. I want them to be protected when the Dark Lord really returns." My feet were shaking uncontrollably like when I was playing the piano in front of a crowd—it was something I could not stop even if I knew the piece well.

"I see." I waited. "I see that you've finally taken your head out of your … well, you are no longer ignorant. You do realize what side I am on, do you not?"

I looked up at him, fear in my eyes. I had not even considered the fact that Snape was working as a Death Eater but would still be willing to protect Muggleborns and Squibs. He had been placed as a mentor to me but had only just asked me questions about fellow students. Why had I entrusted my confidence with someone who would likely take my inquiries and turn them against my family's advantage? Worse yet, why did I want to trust him so much?

He did not make me answer his question for once. "It is evident that no one can force you whom to converse with and you certainly cannot choose your own siblings. But I have and will equip you with knowledge you need to go about during this time because that is what your father has asked me to do. I have waited until you are ready, and so you are.

"If you are to survive and thrive in the future, you will have to pretend things you do not believe in and do things you would never do and talk to people whom you would never want to talk to. Your magical skills must be superb—including your Dark Magic skills, which I will teach you in due time—if you wish to overshadow those with less abilities, like your sister. You must have uniqueness and a reason for being good. It must show that your sister is not bad but that you are a prodigy.

"You must talk to those whom you loathe with all your being. You are not incapable because today you have shown that you can start a conversation with _me._ Don't deny it. Now, you must form relationships with those people and professors who can help you in this way. That way, they can justify any behavior that happens with confidence in you. You must brown-nose everyone you meet that is to your advantage. You must dress and act in an appropriate manner in front of these people and thus make an impression. Instead of standing out in the way you do now, you will conversely become an object much desired.

"These impressions seem superficial and terrible, but I tell you they are the only way. You wanted me to answer your question and solve your problems and so I have. Now, I don't want you to complain to me about my methods because there are truly no other ways."

I soaked everything in. "But how do I stop Ethan from being harassed for his blood status?"

"You can't stop anyone from harassing Travers unless you drop all contact with him. And even then it would be a challenge. But since neither of you would ever be willing to do that because you are both selfish brats, you will have to tolerate his being harassed."

"Are you blaming me for people hating him?"

"I'm not _blaming_ you, I'm saying that you are a culprit because you cause attention to the matter. If no one liked Ethan or stood up for him, they would pity him instead of be angry. As I was saying, you are too young and shallow to do the right thing or to understand the right thing. Someday someone will make the decision for you."

"Thank you, Professor," I said when he had finished. The bell had rung and students began emerging from classrooms.

"I know you won't follow any of my advice," Snape said. "But you needed to hear it because someday I will help you apply it."

"I'll try to follow it," I replied, but I didn't until it was too late.

* * *

I could not sleep my first night back. My mind was aflight with a thousand different scenarios inside my head. There were so many obligations between schoolwork and what was happening inside the Wizard World. Snape had told me I would never stop being friends with Ethan, which was true. But as hard as I tried to think of something, there was no other way to stop them from being cruel to him without doing just that. Would it be worth it to be lonely but safe?

I got up from my bed, watching the breathing forms of the other girls in the darkness. Lacey slept like a rock, Olivia like the princess and the pea, and the Carrow twins with their eyes open. It was quiet at Hogwarts and the fact that everyone but me was asleep was almost comforting. No one could hurt or help me now.

I tiptoed down the stairs of my dormitory to the common room. A green shimmer filled the room from Green Lake. I placed my hands on the glass, feeling the spirit of the merpeople nearby. My head rested against the cool glass and breath filled my lungs. Guided by the mysterious green light, I made my way outside the corridor and to the bathrooms. The shocking light in the bathroom alerted me in an almost stranger way than the hallucinogenic lighting of the common room. I drank some water and took a few swigs of some drowsy allergy medicine from the cabinet one of the students was prescribed from Madam Pomphrey. Making my way back to the common room, I stretched my hands out like a blind person.

The orange crackle of dying embers reached my eyes as I returned. Looking about for the source, my eyes popped out of their sockets when Draco Malfoy was sitting unbeknownst near the fire. He turned to me with open eyes.

 _I know it's the Mudblood. I know it's the Mudblood. I know it's the Mudblood…._

The green light hid me as I ran back to my room. I hid under the freezing comforter, thinking about all the ways Malfoy had power over me and Ethan and how he would hurt us. I thought about how vulnerable I was in my pajamas and without a shred of makeup on, standing before him and his eyes seeing the truth and fear that lied inside my trembling figure. There were infinite debts owed to him now and he would make sure that I suffered. He would reveal everything to my parents, my professors, my friends, and then I would never be safe from the Dark Lord. I tossed and turned until the medicine put me to sleep….

* * *

On Thursday, I could only go to Frog Choir until the Inquisitorial Squad meeting began. The week had dragged by thus far and I was exhausted from the barrage of homework and worries gnawing at my bones. My nails were uneven and the skin around them had been bitten until it bled. Any spare moment there was to practice piano or go to choir was escapism for me. I had avoided everyone all week because the suspense of what would happen once I was done being tortured was killing me.

Flitwick had us collect our music from before Christmas, some of which I was missing because I had taken it for myself. He did not notice. Our seats were moved around for better blending and the Great Hall rang with terrible sight-reading and screechy voices. After the altos failed to sing their part correctly for the thousandth time, Flitwick hushed us with a conducting motion of his hands. He turned to a few people in front.

"Can someone please help me pass out the music for this semester? Thank you, yes…." We were then handed a conglomerated mess of music. I turned it over in my hands, sure that I was missing something. The sharper choir members began to raise their hands and ask questions.

"Where's the men's part?" (Because there were not many men in choir, there was no such thing as tenor, baritone, and bass.)

"Where are the bloody notes?"

"Where's the accompaniment?"

"This doesn't go nearly high enough!"

"Is this even legal?"

"Quiet!" Flitwick bellowed. We were flabbergasted that such a loud sound could be emitted from a small body. "This is your new sheet music and I won't be hearing any complaints from anyone, in or out of class. Professor Umbridge has given us this music to study and it has come directly from the Ministry. We aren't to be singing Muggle songs anymore. Notes on paper are … unnecessary also because we already know the melodies to these. They should be easy to learn and sing so I think we will sound good for once—good on them. Now, don't look so dejected. You should be thankful you have been given popular music to sing, finally."

We did know the music; most of it was nursery rhymes our parents sang us to sleep. Umbridge had concocted a way to be included into every facet of life in Hogwarts. But why was it so important to ban notes on a piece of paper or harmonies or Muggle music? How would any of those things harm us? It was not like we were volunteering ourselves to Muggle living or suggesting Wizard music was not good enough to be sung.

"You are flat," Flitwick informed us in the middle of a song.

"It's because we're not excited," someone mumbled.

"I said _no complaints,_ sir! You realize that if you do complain, there won't be a Frog Choir at Hogwarts anymore!"

The hushed and irritated voices fell silent. Lacey and I glanced at each other from our positions, understanding why everyone was heeling to Umbridge. She was already restricting what we cared about and if we revolted against her she would remove it altogether. We were puppets.

"Now, let us return to—" but before Flitwick could continue, Umbridge made herself known, clacking her heels into the Great Hall.

"This session has been cancelled tonight," she spat. "The Great Hall needs to be cleared for the Inquisitorial Squad. We must discover who is meeting secretly and performing defensive spells against the 315 codes I have proposed. We can't have little children singing and interrupting the flow of what we are about to unearth, now can we?"

Everyone craned their necks to see Flitwick's reaction. "Well, uh, no, of course not, Professor. Please hand in your folders now."

"Wait!" Umbridge barked. "Are there any students absent from tonight's Frog Choir rehearsal?"

"A few, I believe. Why do you ask, Professor?"

"I'd like you to tell me the names of those students."

Flitwick looked at the ground. "I'd—I'd like to know why first, Professor."

"What a dishonor! You should tell me things merely because I asked you, for I am an esteemed member of the Ministry and Wizengamot Jury! I will give you one last chance. Tell me the names of the students absent tonight, Flitwick."

"Colin Creevy and Luna Lovegood, Professor."

Umbridge marked something on her sheet. "See, was that so hard? Now get your students out of here." She scanned the Choir members, calling out a few names of which I was included. "You are to be at Inquisitorial Squad, not singing! Now off to my office!" She giggled and tottered outside of the Great Hall.

When I reached Umbridge's classroom, she announced that they had discovered a few students entering the seventh floor around the same time on random evenings during the week. No one was sure how students could meet at such short notice and without scheduled meetings but they had figured that wherever they were going, it was on the seventh floor. My mind immediately jumped to the Room of Requirement. There must have been a strange expression on my face because Draco Malfoy turned to look at me and raised his eyebrow quizzically. I froze, realizing I had been discovered. He turned back to Umbridge but did not say anything or relate that he had noticed my reaction.

We were sent out in groups again to scour the seventh floor but I managed to sneak away because my group did not notice me. The seventh floor was mostly barren, but it was big because of it. There were many other undiscovered and strange rooms besides the Room of Requirement that students were selected to find. Hogwarts is a labyrinth and it is only one magical anomaly inside of it.

If I was the one who uncovered where the meetings were taken place, I would be renowned as the girl who saved not only Hogwarts, but the Ministry. Harry Potter may have saved countless individuals and be the Boy-Who-Lived, but if the Ministry loved you, then everyone else would follow. The vast majority hated Harry Potter and it was why everything was such a struggle with him. But if I helped reveal where these students had been hiding and find them myself, all my problems would disappear. No one would dare hurt Ethan when they knew how "intelligent" and "cunning" I was, I would set myself apart as a prodigy and cover up Daphne's magical deficits, and Draco would have nothing on me when he accused me of being an accomplice to a Muggleborn crashing his family's New Year's Party. I almost started crying in relief and laughed to myself.

Flitwick had told me in First Year that if the Room of Requirement was occupied, it would be similar to a parallel universe when one tried to get inside. Depending on what was requested, one could get inside. If any person happened upon it, it would just be a broom closet. I supposed the people who were using it had requested a wide space to practice their defensive magic. This had to be what Astrix had wanted to tell Fay about without me discovering. Slytherins must have been banned because of their "loyalty" to Umbridge—I leaned against the wall—and this meant it had to have been led by Gryffindors, then Harry Potter—

"Seems you've lost your group, Greengrass?" I stood up, adopting a tense stance. Niles Handley stood in front of me, chewing on a fingernail.

"Same," was all I could manage.

"You're up to something. Get out of the way and let me see." I stepped aside easily and Niles eyed me suspiciously because of it. He took his wand out of his robes and whispered a lighting charm before opening up the broom closet. He stuck his head in and then removed it.

"Tell me how to get in here, Greengrass."

"You open the door and walk in. Do you want me to tell you how to do those things, too?"

He stepped over to me and I fumbled for my wand inside my pocket but was unable to take it out. "Tell me or I'll castrate your little Mudblood."

"You're disgusting," I spat at him.

Niles grasped my elbows. "Tell me or I _will_ hurt him. Worse than he hurt me that night. Much worse, Greengrass."

"Stop it!" Tears prickled my eyes. "It's just a closet, Niles!" I tried taking my wand out but Niles held my elbows firmly. I felt myself dissociating and could not calm myself.

"You will tell me or I hurt you too. I'll tell everyone that you helped the Mudblood—"

"What the bloody hell are you two doing?" asked Draco Malfoy, turning the corner. "You're supposed to be in your bloody groups! Must I watch you like you're First Years? What are you, lost?"

Niles removed his hands from my elbows and I backed into the wall, shaking. "Astoria here found a special room, is all. Tell him, Astoria."

Draco waited. I stopped shaking and the tears at the corners of my eyes had dried. But this was no time to be calm, for two of the most hateful people were in my lonely presence!

"It's a broom closet, Niles," I stated a bit late. Draco rolled his eyes and opened the closet, peering in much as Niles had. He slammed it and approached Niles, infuriated.

"You're wasting all of our bloody time with this!" He hexed him a bit. "One more act like this and you're out of the Squad. Now get out of here before I _Crucio_ you!" I was not sure if he was serious or not, but Niles must have thought so because he was down the corridor in a second. I waited, my heart pounding out of my chest. I swallowed while Draco wiped his hair out of his face and sighed. "I hate this. It's pointless." He then seemed to realize that I was still there.

"You do know something. I saw you earlier in Umbridge's classroom. I just wanted to get that twat out of the way. Now speak up, Greengrass, before I whip you a new one."

I backed up against the wall. "You can't take this away from me. It's—it's something I've figured out."

"I can take whatever I bloody want. I guarantee you my problems are worse than your stupid Squib sister. Now tell me about that room."

"No!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, be a stubborn Slytherin bitch about it. I'll find out sooner or later, just like the party, and then there'll be hell to pay for both. And don't forget, Greengrass. You still owe me something. And when I figure out just what it is, you _won't_ be able to slither out of that one."

When I walked up to the dormitory, there was a note waiting for me as if someone had delivered it personally.

 _Tell me what's in the room or I tell everyone about the Mudblood._

* * *

 **A/N:** Mwha-ha-ha, what a terrible chapter. Meaning, that's a lot of intense drama. I've got a lot of tricks up my sleeves. I plan on giving some comic relief for the next one (and a longer chapter with less breaks too!). This chapter is meant to set up what will be happening during the war years. It's not light stuff, as you can see. However, I still had a lot of fun writing this. I really like the title of the chapter for some reason. The next chapter should be up soon. I won't make any promises, but maybe Memorial Day weekend.

Thanks for the reviews, as always. More reviews would make my day! Questions about Draco also make my day.

Happy Almost-Summer!


	18. Don't Think Twice

**Disclaimer: All creds to songwriters. For lyrics, I suggest you listen to the songs to get the full effect. Political opinions belong to the characters and no one else. Review, please and thank you!**

* * *

I started when Lacey plopped onto her bed and popped off her shoes. "What's up, Stor? How was Inquisitorial Squad?"

"It was—it was—well, they're on to something."

"Tell me everything! Especially if you're not allowed to."

I shook my head. "There's nothing to tell, except…."

"What?"

I took out the first note from the bottom of my robe pocket. I smoothed out its wrinkles and laid it beside the new note. They were identical prototypes, written in a quill font all Slytherin parents give to their children with bad handwriting. Lacey's eyes widened as she looked between the two notes.

 _I know it's the Mudblood._

 _Tell me what's in the room or I tell everyone about the Mudblood._

Lacey's terrified expression did not make me feel better. "I always knew Draco was a dick, but I didn't think he was like _this._ "

"What should I do?"

"Tell him what he wants to know for now. Oh Merlin, Astoria, you've got to be careful."

"Should I tell Dumbledore?"

" _No!_ Are you crazy? That would compromise your family, not just Ethan. You shouldn't've even have told _me_."

"What will he do when I've told him everything I know? Won't he just reveal everything?"

Lacey shook her head. "There's always something to blackmail someone about. It will end when he is discovered or you go against what he wants you to do."

I ripped out a piece of parchment and began writing, crossing it out a few times and scribbling out certain lines. Just as Lacey was giving me suggestions to make the letter as neutral as possible, there was an incessant pecking at the window. Irritated beyond belief, I opened it to find Boomerang with another note. It must have had high priority by being delivered directly to the Owlery. Lacey read the note over my shoulder:

 _Tell me what's in the room and I'll protect your Squib sister._

I turned the note over but it was too late. "What the bloody hell is that about?" asked Lacey.

I grabbed her arms and made her sit down on her bed, lowering my voice to a whisper. "Daphne isn't a Squib. She's just really bad at magic. But … it's an issue, especially now with…."

"That doesn't make sense. What does she need protecting with right now? He's not threatening to hurt her or tell everyone like he did with Ethan in the last note. Why wouldn't he do that?"

"You're part of the Twenty-Eight, Lacey. Do you realize what it would look like if a great family like mine was revealed to have a bad witch in their bunch? Who knows what other families have then? Protection gives a lot more incentive."

She shrugged and nodded. "Hurry up and tell him then. That's a much better offer than what he said about Ethan. I think he must've thought you didn't care enough by taking a while to respond and not that you were thinking about it."

With more confidence and finality in my handwriting, I wrote a concise and thorough message on a piece of parchment:

 _The "broom closet" is really the Room of Requirement. If you walk past it three times thinking of what your necessities are, it will unlock. It will then contain what you have asked for. I am not sure how it will work with others already inside unless you request the exact thing they have asked for._

 _I will hold you to not saying anything about Ethan and protecting my sister. And for the last time,_ she is not a Squib.

"Do you know what they could've requested?" Lacey asked.

"Possibly, but Malfoy didn't ask about that, did he?" I sealed the letter and gave it to Boomerang. He appeared confused and hesitated for a moment, so I hit him on the rump in order for him to get going.

"Merlin, I'm resorting to animal cruelty I'm so stressed," I said, falling back onto my bed.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Lacey asked me, already forgetting my life could be in jeopardy.

"I can't even think that far in advance right now. Probably if I'm still alive. Why?"

"I'm going with Adrian. Want to third wheel with me?"

"Don't you want to be alone with your boyfriend? Besides, I'd just go with Ethan so I wouldn't have to third wheel."

"Aw, I was looking forward to the three of us holding hands. But yeah, that makes sense. You better not do anything exciting without me."

"Oh, we will just because you said not to. So, how're things with loverboy?"

Lacey giggled a bit and wiggled her toes. "Great."

"What was it like? Being kissed?"

Lacey rolled her eyes as if I was too juvenile for this discussion. "Good, I mean … he's pretty damn good."

I looked up at the ceiling. "I wish somebody would kiss me."

"Ask Ethan. I'm sure he'd do it for you. It's the least he could do after all the assignments you've given him."

I sat up. "Merlin, no!"

"Then good luck getting kissed. You know, we've never really done anything girly. Let's paint each others' nails." Lacey rummaged around inside her trunk and whipped off my socks, plugging her nose in jest.

I pulled my feet into a criss-cross underneath me. "It's winter, Lacey. And was that an insult?"

"It's just a fact if your feet stink."

"No, I mean about getting kissed."

"Of course not! I just mean, there's no one else either of us really hang around with that's a bloke. If you want to score with someone other than Ethan, you've got to put yourself out there more. The only other bloke giving you attention right now is Malfoy, who wants off with your head more than any other part. But if that's what you're into—"

"If only I was sporty like you. I mean, you don't even actually play on the field!"

"Exactly, which is why you should join Quidditch."

"Not in a million years."

Lacey smeared some nail polish on my skin and began painting my hand more than my nails. "That's the kind of attitude that does _not_ attract males."

"No wonder why you went with someone older. Look at who's in our year in our House," I continued on my negative rampage. "You have Ethan, who's our best friend. He's also a Muggleborn, so impossible marriage material. Then Niles Handley, who's an absolute fuckboy when he isn't being a dick to everyone else. Lee doesn't know how to count higher than 10 on a good day and Malcolm has been gay since conception."

"Don't forget Timothy Morcott."

"I was hoping _you_ would."

We were silent for a few moments while Lacey cleaned up the access nail polish with a charm. Olivia walked into our dormitory, lipstick smeared over her teeth. She looked into the full-length mirror, rubbing some of it off.

"How's Niles?" Lacey asked boldly.

Olivia paused for a moment and looked back at us through the mirror. "Oh, this isn't from Niles, dear." I snorted into my elbow but then felt immature standing behind Olivia, who was figured and experienced. "Niles is great for a little tease. But he's still a boy in my eyes. No, I was just in the Owlry." She pulled down the collar of her robe to reveal a hickey on her neck. "Can you keep a secret?"

Lacey and I nodded, riveted.

" _This,_ my good mates, is from Draco Malfoy." Olivia, who liked boys for fun but never struck me as serious about them, almost swooned herself.

I began laughing hysterically and she stared at me a bit longer than necessary. After wiping a few tears of mirth from my eyes at the irony, I asked her, "Isn't he going out with Pansy Parkinson?"

"Your point? Honey, the only reason why Pansy even has breasts is because of the extra weight." Lacey cringed at the jab.

"I think you're—" I started, but then stopped because I didn't even know what I wanted to say.

"Do go on." I watched Olivia preening herself in the mirror. Up until this point, we had viewed her as being promiscuous albeit mature beyond her years and an incredible reader of people. But now she acted as if the world owed it to her for her to take whatever she wanted in a utilitarian fashion. She was just as bad as Niles but for different reasons. Because she was gorgeous and knew how to connive people, she thought that it was their problem for believing her.

"Nothing," I said.

"That's what I thought," she replied cheerfully. She began regrettably dabbing makeup over the hickey and I fidgeted as I pictured Draco kissing her. It was a terrible and ironic coincidence because a moment before he had been thinking of ways to blackmail me. Olivia situated her chair in front of the mirror while Lacey put her fingernails outwards for me to paint them. Olivia let her hair down and began to brush through it with a comb until it shined. I was lucky if the brush made it into doing my own ponytail. I realized then how little time I spent in the dormitory; the majority was spent downstairs in the common room with Ethan or doing my makeup in the communal bathroom.

"Maybe the next time we hook up we won't be surrounded by shit," said Olivia.

"That would be nice," said Lacey. I gave her a look.

"How's dating Adrian for you, Lacey? You must understand how much _better_ older boys are, even if they aren't that attractive."

Was this a jab at Adrian's physique? "It's great dating Adrian. And yeah—they're a lot more mature."

"What kind of maturity are you talking about?"

Lacey giggled. "A lot of different kinds, now that you mention it."

I stood up without finishing Lacey's nails. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"It's almost curfew," said Olivia. "Don't get caught, Astoria!"

I stomped down the stairs to the common room, imitating the saccharine resonance of her voice. Some people get under your skin so much that you want to rub it until it is pink after being in their presence. The next best thing to that would be talking to Ethan. The common room was crowded with students doing last-minute homework assignments and catching up with one another after Christmas Break.

My eyes met Draco Malfoy's as he entered, smoothing back his hair and adjusting his tie. My heart began pulsating like a skinny bird's as he studied me. Something in my expression must have flickered when he raised his collar. I broke eye contact and turned to look at where Pansy was sitting by herself. Ever since her schism with Tracey and Daphne, the only person she consistently was around was Draco. And now that he had more pressing matters than her, all she had to support her was her dignity and upturned nose.

This was something I could hold over Malfoy if he ever tried to blackmail me again. Now he had what he wanted and we would be even. Daphne would also be protected. He should have been jumping for joy at the information I had just given him.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder.

It was Ethan. "I thought you were avoiding me. I haven't seen you, and—"

"Why would I be avoiding you? We just saw each other this morning, Ethan. I was at Inquisitorial Squad."

He reddened. "Oh."

"What's up?"

"We need to talk. Wanna go to the Astronomy Tower? It's beautiful at night." He shoved his hands into his pockets and I became anxious. Was this about the bullying?

"Sure."

"I got another iPod for Christmas so we can listen to some music. What are you in the mood for?" He held the door open for me as we exited the common room and made our way into the corridor. The portraits alerted us that curfew was approaching but we ignored them.

"Maybe some Indie rock?" Ethan snorted at my terrible taste.

"Is folk close enough?"

The night air was frigid but refreshing. Ethan casted a charm that enabled us to stay warm without being suffocated inside our robes. I put my hands on the stone ledge of the tower, looking out at the grounds of Hogwarts. It was a clear night and a few stars dotted the sky. I looked up, making myself dizzy in the velvet blackness of the night sky.

"Why do we feel so big when we're not?" I asked Ethan.

"Because we are. At least, that's what I think. We're made of stardust, so we _are_ as big as the universe."

"So when I don't pass my Potions test, it really is as big of a deal as I make it out to be?"

"Sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear."

I laughed. "Aren't you in Astronomy? I never hear you talk about it."

"Well, I know you'd fall asleep. It's less about stars and more about the science of it. Lots of angles and memorizing."

"Isn't there a poem or something about that? There's this student who is forced to study astronomy but then he goes out and actually looks at the night sky and just enjoys its beauty?"

"'When I Heard the Learned Astronomer,' of course. How do you know about good poetry, being a Pureblood and all?"

I hit him on the arm. "I'm not uneducated, you idiot."

Ethan's eyes lighted up in excitement. "Let me show you something. Close your eyes."

"Are you going to throw me off the tower?"

"Yes. Now, keep them closed." I felt the riveting excitement of pure magic filling the air around me, sensing a spell meant to reveal what was hidden by the natural world.

"You can open your eyes now."

The heavens Milton had written about were before me then: the galaxies, stars, planets, everything was so beautiful. It had been here this whole time, and yet all the other lights had hidden them. I wiped tears from my eyes, abashed but grateful to Ethan.

"Thank you for showing me this."

He looked concerned. "Are you all right, Stor?"

"Yes. I just needed that, is all. Things haven't been easy for either of us lately, it seems."

"Why, what's going on?" he asked, sitting me down on the enclosed part of the tower.

I stiffened. "Just … everything with—all these pressures, you know. Because of You-Know-Who, I have all these pressures on me from everybody."

"That must be so hard for you. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You've already helped, just by being here with me tonight."

Ethan sighed. "This is what I meant to talk to you about. I wanted to give you the option of us not being friends anymore."

"What the actual fu—"

"Let me finish. I know it seems crazy but if you think about it, we could just keep our friendship a secret. I know you like me, Stor, and don't need that gratification if it means keeping you safe. Me too, you know?"

"Screw it." I wiped tears of frustration from my eyes, horrified at the idea. "We're staying friends and in public. People can deal with it."

"Can you at least think about it before you make a decision? And seriously think about it? Just consider it."

I was silent for a moment. "There, I've considered it. We're still friends." I paused. " _You_ still like me, right?"

Ethan nodded fervently, seeming equally horrified at my moment's qualms. "Of course. I …" I reached for his hand and grabbed it in the cold air that penetrated even the deepest charm. But it could not penetrate the bond we shared and could not be afraid of.

"I'm scared, Astoria," Ethan whispered.

"You don't have to be scared with me, Ethan. I'm your friend. I don't see anything other than you when I look at you. They can be terrible but don't let them make you terrible inside. Do you know what I mean?"

He nodded. "It's … it's worse than you think. When you're not around—"

"Oh, please no."

"I shouldn't have said anything. Here, do you have your iPod? I have a few songs I want to give you." I dug into my robe where I kept my electronic device at all times, and handed it to him. Ethan took out his wand, his teeth chattering from the cold. He then transferred a few songs with an original spell he must have used. He was probably the smartest Wizard in our House, maybe even our year, but no one ever seemed to notice.

"Listen to them tonight, before you go to bed. While you're thinking about what I said." I glared at him.

"Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" I asked him.

"I'm insulted. Don't we always go together?"

"Well, Lacey is gonna be with Adrian. She wants me to third wheel but I won't have it."

"Glad to know I'm your second choice."

"You're not! I just mean, well, I'm not as—charismatic as Lacey. Oh, I don't know!"

"I'm just gonna pretend you're not as delusional as Professor Umbitch. And yes, I just compared you to her. Well, it looks like the spell is wearing off—"

There was a shuffling noise of someone trudging up the cemented stairs and we gave each other a look. Ethan grabbed my wrist and led me to a row of telescopes covered by a veil of cotton fiber. It was almost claustrophobic among the warped machinations of the telescopes. I sat on my bum my back pressed against Ethan as he squatted, holding the veil and listening for the intruder.

"What's up with the sky?" asked a voice who could be no other than Malcolm Ilminster's.

"Aren't you listening, Malcolm? Olivia and I almost _did it_ over break but then she ran off. I don't think she was afraid or teasing, either. Why'd you think she pass up the offer, then?"

"I don't know, Niles." Ethan covered my mouth since I had started wheezing. "I don't know if you want to hear it, but I don't think she's as great as she seems."

"Who could blame you for being jealous of me, man? I mean, she is…."

"Yeah, that's who I'm jealous of," Malcolm mumbled but Niles did not seem to hear.

"Why'd you wanna come out here again?"

"I was gonna tell you something…."

"Well, spit it out, man."

"I … I forgot."

There was a sharp noise as Niles clapped Malcolm on the back and Malcolm's slight frame must have almost toppled off the tower. "You're going far."

"Say, wanna go to Hogsmeade this weekend? I'll treat you to some butterbeer."

"I'm going with Olivia to Hogs Head for butterbeer. Unless you're into a threesome, then you're welcome to join us."

"I … think I'll pass."

"Aw, you sure?" Niles' voice began to trail off as they made their way out of the Astronomy Tower and back inside. After a few moments of silence, Ethan and I emerged from underneath the veiled telescopes.

"Guess what Olivia told _me_ today?" I said, chomping at the bit. "She made out in the Owlry with Malfoy."

"That's some juicy news! You realize we could cause so much drama, right? With just the right chemistry, you deliver the infidelity subtly to Malcolm, who would spill the whole thing to Niles. That's something you can really hold over someone's head!"

"Why do you think Malcolm is in love with Niles, anyway? He's a terrible person. It's got to be horrible to live in the same room as him."

Ethan shrugged. "At the risk of sounding fruity, he has some envious abs."

I poked at his stomach. "What about you?"

He batted my hands away, terrified at whatever prospect I was implying. "You-won't-ever-find-out-so-it-doesn't-matter," he said in a breath.

"Excuse me?"

We whipped our heads around at the voice: Professor McGonagall.

"What are you two doing around after hours? I don't want excuses!"

Ethan adjusted his posture and his eyebrows lifted up as he stared straight ahead. "I was finishing up my Astronomy homework that was assigned over break. I should've gotten it done before. I'm sorry, Professor."

"That doesn't explain why Miss Greengrass has accompanied you."

"I showed her this spell. Check it out—"

"Get inside before I give you detentions. 10 points from Slytherin, and consider that me going easy on you."

We scat and went back inside the common room, which had quieted since we had left. "Don't forget to listen," Ethan whispered, feeling like the entirety of Hogwarts was asleep and all the energetic magic that went with it.

I nodded and bid him good-night.

In the darkness, I changed into my pajamas and glanced at the huddling forms of Olivia, Lacey, and the Carrow twins. Bright light was emitted from my iPod as I turned it on. Lying on the covers with my headphones on and staring at the ceiling, I listened to the songs Ethan had given me.

The first two songs were from a man called Bob Dylan. The first was titled "It Ain't Me Babe," "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright," and "The Times They Are A-Changin'." They went together well and were both probing thoughts of a regular man singing about real life. It was a simple acoustic and hurt something deep inside of me listening to the nasal voice combined with the lyrics.

"Go 'way from my window

Leave at your own chosen speed

I'm not the one you want, babe

I'm not the one you need

You say you're lookin' for someone

Who's never weak but always strong

To protect you an' defend you

Whether you are right or wrong

Someone to open each and every door

But it ain't me, babe

No, no, no, it ain't me, babe

It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.

Go lightly from the ledge, babe

Go lightly on the ground

I'm not the one you want, babe

I will only let you down

You say you're lookin' for someone

Who will promise never to part

Someone to close his eyes for you

Someone to close his heart

Someone who will die for you an' more

But it ain't me, babe

No, no, no, it ain't me babe

It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.

Go melt back in the night

Everything inside is made of stone

There's nothing in here moving

An' anyway I'm not alone

You say you're looking for someone

Who'll pick you up each time you fall

To gather flowers constantly

An' to come each time you call

A lover for your life an' nothing more

But it ain't me, babe

No, no, no, it ain't me, babe

It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe."

"Well, it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe

Even you don't know by now

And it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe

It'll never do somehow

When your rooster crows at the break of dawn

Look out your window, and I'll be gone

You're the reason I'm a-traveling on

But don't think twice, it's all right.

And it ain't no use in turning on your light, babe

The light I never knowed

And it ain't no use in turning on your light, babe

I'm on the dark side of the road

But I wish there was somethin' you would do or say

To try and make me change my mind and stay

But we never did too much talking anyway

But don't think twice, it's all right.

So it ain't no use in calling out my name, gal

Like you never done before

And it ain't no use in calling out my name, gal

I can't hear you any more

I'm a-thinking and a-wonderin' walking down the road

I once loved a woman, a child I am told

I gave her my heart but she wanted my soul

But don't think twice, it's all right.

So long honey, baby

Where I'm bound, I can't tell

Goodbye's too good a word, babe

So I'll just say fare thee well

I ain't a-saying you treated me unkind

You could have done better but I don't mind

You just kinda wasted my precious time

But don't think twice, it's all right."

"Come gather 'round people

Wherever you roam

And admit that the waters

Around you have grown

And accept it that soon

You'll be drenched to the bone

If your time to you

Is worth savin'

Then you better start swimmin'

Or you'll sink like a stone

For the times they are a-changin'.

Come writers and critics

Who prophesize with your pen

And keep your eyes wide

The chance won't come again

And don't speak too soon

For the wheel's still in spin

And there's no tellin' who

That it's namin'

For the loser now

Will be later to win

For the times they are a-changin'.

Come senators, congressmen

Please heed the call

Don't stand in the doorway

Don't block up the hall

For he that gets hurt

Will be he who has stalled

There's a battle outside

And it is ragin'

It'll soon shake your windows

And rattle your walls

For the times they are a-changin'.

Come mothers and fathers

Throughout the land

And don't criticize

What you can't understand

Your sons and your daughters

Are beyond your command

Your old road is

Rapidly agin'

Please get out of the new one

If you can't lend your hand

For the times they are a-changin'.

The line it is drawn

The curse it is cast

The slow one now

Will later be fast

As the present now

Will later be past

The order is

Rapidly fadin'

And the first one now

Will later be last

For the times they are a-changin'."

The music was poetry. If you took it out and just looked at the lyrics that is what it would be. It could mean anything you wanted it to and the obscurity made it beautiful.

That night I fell straight asleep.

* * *

As Lacey and I got ready Saturday morning, my sister stepped into my dormitory for the first time.

"What do you, uh … want Daphne?"

She sprawled herself on my bedspread, at ease for the first time since we were children. "Just to talk. Are you two going to Hogsmeade today?"

Lacey and I nodded.

"I'd ask if you wanted to join me for butterbeer but I don't think you take to Pansy and Draco."

"Since when are you all buddies again?"

"Wait-," Lacey interrupted, putting down her wand from straightening her hair. "I'll be with Adrian, but you should go with them, Stor."

"Why would I invite myself to be near Pansy and Malfoy?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Besides, I'll be with Ethan."

My sister nodded in understanding. "Well, it's just a thought. You can always stop by after too." Tracey called Daphne's name and she bidded me goodbye.

I turned to Lacey abruptly. "What the hell?"

She pointed at me. "You're 'stopping by' after. You know why? You're going to show Malfoy that you're not afraid and that you're holding him to his promises."

I grasped the sheets until my knuckles whitened. "No, I don't want to."

"It doesn't matter what you want. You have to show your dominance. How about this? I'll cut my date short with Adrian if it means you'll go."

"I don't want you to do that!"

"Well, if it's the only way then I'll have to."

I sighed. "Why do you care so much?"

"Because I'm a _Slytherin!_ You've got to be more savvy, Stor." I watched her blond head as she turned back towards the mirror and her wand began to steam. Setting myself with a grim existentiality of fortitude, I stopped with my foot in front of the doorway.

"Better yet, Lacey? Bring Adrian. You wouldn't want to disinclude a member of the Quidditch team." Lacey's lips curled into a smile as I turned on my heel and made my way downstairs.

It was strange seeing Ethan in casual clothes, let alone Muggle attire. He had on darker jeans with a hoodie of some vaguely familiar band walking across a road. His brown hair was more tamed than usual and it appeared he woke up at a decent hour to put an effort into his appearance.

"Ready?" he asked.

I elbowed him in the ribs, trying to ease away his awkwardness without Lacey being around. "Let's get out of here."

The line to get leave Hogwarts to process into Hogsmeade was even longer than usual. According to Ethan's better height, Umbitch was requiring every student to hand in their wands and to have a retinal scan before they good proceed off the grounds. There was a struggle going on and I could hear the mouthy voice of Ginny Weasley, the stringy, poor, ginger Weasley offspring talking back to Umbitch. She did not want to hand in her wand.

"She's holding up the line!" I complained. A few other Slytherins murmured in agreement.

"But she's standing up to Umbitch," Ethan argued.

"It's quite the travesty," commented a voice from behind us. I turned just enough to see who it was. He had been standing right above me and peering over. Heart pounding in my ears, I pushed Ethan from behind and wiggled through the crowd, managing to get past without garnering any complaints about cutting. With my compromising, we had made it to the front. I ripped Ethan's wand from his hand and plopped it along with mine into the basket Umbitch was holding. She seemed encouraged by our enthusiasm.

"Go ahead," she smiled at us without requiring a retinal scan.

"What was that about?" asked Ethan.

"Thank Merlin we got past everyone," I replied, managing to avoid his question. After making our way into the bustling street, we stood around without knowing what to do. Usually Lacey would lead us into the most populated direction and get us to mingle with others. I was also finding it hard to concentrate when thinking about how Malfoy had been watching me without me even realizing it. He must have seen that Ethan was right next to me and it was going down as something on his hit list. I thought about how he had kissed Olivia right after sending that blackmail letter and how terrible a person would have to be to do all those things at once.

"Stor? Do you need to sit down? You look a bit peakish."

I shook my head. "What do you want to do?"

Ethan fidgeted. "Well, I was thinking we could go to Wizarding Wireless Network Headquarters."

"What?"

"It's a radio station. They play really good music. Some of the stations even tune in to Muggle places. Wizards normally go there to get a taste of the Muggle-verse or Muggle media. It's all right if you're not interested. It'd be more fun to get butterbeer like every other time, anyway…."

"Ethan, I'd love to go! The songs you gave me last night were some of the best ever."

He smiled and began to lead the way. Hogsmeade was small but the perfect size to navigate, so we arrived at the headquarters quickly. It was busy inside, with Wizards with headphones scurrying to get the latest news and pressing buttons on control panels. There were stools where the public could sit and put in money depending on the station they wanted to hear. Then you could hold up the headphones to your ears and dial the station to the one you wanted. I dug out a few leftover Galleons from Christmas and put them into the slot and put on the headphones. Ethan followed suit, adjusting my dial to the station his was on.

For a moment there was some static buzzing but then there was a voice. "Most of the Republicans are saying that it's a terrorism problem and the Democrats say it's a gun problem. What do you think, Dave?"

I removed my headphones. "What-a-what-now?" I asked Ethan.

"Republicans are like Purebloods and Democrats are like Halfbloods. They're both political parties. They're talking about gun violence."

"What's up with their accents?"

"This station is American."

"Oh," I said, picturing Native American tribal Indians having a conversation about gun violence. From what little I knew about American history, weren't they the ones who shot buffalo with arrows? Why would they be worried about guns?

"What—"

"Sh! I've been away from civilization and am trying to hear this!"

I sat and listened, trying to be engaged but hopelessly confused. Why didn't American radio stations play music instead of talk so much? "Well, Gerry, I feel like gun violence has been an issue forever. But when it's happening on this kind of scale, it's getting people's attention. Of course something should be done about it, but will that really solve the problem? They got guns in fine in Paris and the laws there don't allow civilians to have them."

The men babbled on for a while and Ethan seemed enthralled. While he was not looking, I tuned the dial to a different station. This one had just started on a new song. I sat for a moment, reveling in its beauty. By the end of the song, I was not mentally or emotionally sound.

Ethan pulled off my headphones. "Bohemian Rhapsody, am I right?"

"So that's what that creation is called."

"There's a whole world out there, Astoria."

"I don't care about that world much. I just care about its music."

"A lot of people seem to feel that way. Do you really want to be in the dark, though? I mean, even Amish people get a chance to live in the real world."

I sighed. "What are you saying, run away and become a Muggle? Ethan, you're getting to be too much with this Muggle stuff. I love your music more than anything, but you're really terrible and primitive people."

"I mean, you're not wrong…. But—but I just want to share this with you. I don't have anybody to talk to about it. And I'm stuck between these two worlds. It's so confusing for me. You understand more than anyone because you have the music. Can't you listen for me?"

I put the headphones down. "Of course. I'm your friend."

"I'll try to help you understand. So in the Wizarding World, you have the good guys and the bad guys and the 'normal' guys. The good guys are like me—Muggle and different. No one really likes us but not everyone hates us. The bad guys are the people who don't want us around anymore. Like You-Know-Who. And then there are the normal guys, which is you. Purebloods.

"In the Muggle World, the good guys are the minorities. The racial minorities, the LGBT community. The bad guys are the people who don't like them. And then the 'normal' guys are the ones who don't hate on the good guys but aren't persecuted like them.

"You have magic. Magic can be used for good and bad—you can use it to defend yourself but you can also use it to hurt others, like Dark Magic. The Muggle World has guns. A gun is a device—"

"I know what a gun is, Ethan!"

"Well, anyway. Muggles are confused about whether to take guns away from people or if it's their right to have them. It's terrible because of this killing going on everywhere when all we want is peace. It's an issue that's been coming on for a long time, I think. But now it's just been shoved in our faces. England doesn't have to worry about it because civilians aren't allowed to have them, but it still doesn't stop the violence going on."

"I would die if someone took away my magic," I said.

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Would you, though? You seem like you'd die more if someone took away your music."

"But I've relied on magic since I could remember. It's like I was born to do it, like it's almost a burden or right forced on me. Oh Merlin, don't tell anyone I ever said that!"

"I won't."

"But I'm sure you could never really stop someone from getting magic if it was taken away."

"True."

I thought for a moment, hearing the static of the radio in the background. "But either way, magic at least can be used for good. Those guns you describe—well, does anyone ever use _them_ for good?"

"What's your decision, Astoria? About our friendship? About us?"

"I won't have it. I'll stand by you no matter what. We'll stand up against those … Republicans."

Ethan chuckled. "Not all Republicans are bad, you know. Just like all Purebloods aren't bad."

"That's just what the Weasleys say!"

For the remainder of the day, Ethan and I walked around shops and ate a lot. When it was almost evening, I informed him that I was going to visit my sister and other Slytherins he would not be interested in seeing.

"At least you're honest. Well, I'll catch you later."

I gave him a hug equivalent to the ones I gave Lacey when we were having one of our moments. He stiffened and did not put his arms around me. When I pulled back, he looked at me strangely. He ruffled my hair and I noticed that he had grown a lot in the past year. "See you around, kid." I stuck my tongue out at him and then turned around.

It had started sprinkling and it was damp. Without Ethan or Lacey around, I was scared to walk into the store. Mustering up the remainder of my courage, I squared my shoulders and opened the door so hard that it went back all the way and clanged against the building. The entire din's inhabitants turned to look at me but it did not frighten me. I walked over to my sister's table in the back.

"Your sister knows how to make an entrance!" Tracey exclaimed, pulling out a chair. Daphne blushed in embarrassment.

I snuck a glance at Pansy and Malfoy, trying to gauge the atmosphere. Pansy was leaned over the table as if to maintain total control of the situation and Draco was sulking in his chair, mulling over a cup of butterbeer. He stared at me out of the corner of his eye, his eyebrow arched and his hand squeezing the holder of his cup. I whipped my hair back and looked at the waitress. She took my generic order and left to get some butterbeer.

I gave Lacey a knowing smile as she walked into the din with Adrian by her side. Bopping my head in time to "The House of the Rising Sun," I helped Adrian pull over two more chairs.

"Beautiful organ, isn't it?" I whispered in Lacey's ear and she snorted.

"Sit down," Daphne murmured in my direction. I raised my eyebrows at her as if she had the gall to speak to me that way. She looked confused at my bold reaction.

"So Draco," said Adrian, "how're things with the Inquisitorial Squad? Been making any progress lately?" Lacey gave me a look and I understood that she had asked Adrian to say this. Ah, the perks of having a boyfriend.

Draco, unbeknownst to Adrian being conniving, adjusted his posture in excitement. "We're making great progress." Lie. "We know exactly where they are but not allowed to give anything away yet." Lie. "As a matter of fact, we're even onto why they're meeting and what they're doing." Yet another lie. "And when we catch them, there'll be hell to pay for it." Well, this threat seemed familiar.

"It's big stuff for being a Prefect _and_ in charge of Inquisitorial Squad," said Pansy. I nodded a bit too enthusiastically in her direction.

"So Astoria," said Daphne, starting a separate conversation. "Have you been talking to Zabini lately?"

"Um, no, actually. Not since—"

"I only ask 'cause he's sitting right over there. Don't _look,_ you imbecile. He's alone too. Think you could go strike up a conversation with him and ask him to join us?"

I stood up, making the chair screech against the floor. "Is that why I'm here, then? To get your own boyfriend back for you? You had your chance for me to help, Daphne, and you blew it."

"Shots fired!" Adrian exclaimed. Tracey and Lacey both cringed.

"Could you both just stop?" drawled Pansy. "Whenever you're in the same room something always blows up. It's so annoying."

A cold semblance came over me then. "You know what, Daph? I'll help you out. What's a sister for?" I smiled. She looked terrified when I sauntered over to Blaise. I scooted into the booth across from him.

"She sent me here to talk to you."

The dim light shined upon his dark face. "I know your sister just as well as you, Astoria."

"Do you want her back?"

"Of course. But I want some revenge first. Good things come to those who wait."

He reached out his hand and I shook it. After a few moments of dismal silence, we walked over to the table and he looked timidly at Daphne. "Mind if I join you?" he asked.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she looked at me with gratefulness. I moved over so Blaise could sit between us. Draco must have caught my expression because his eyes narrowed in mischief. He looked between me and Blaise and took his smuggled wand out of his robe pocket. I fidgeted in my seat, trying to see what he was doing. A few seconds later, something nudged against my leg. I grasped a piece of paper and almost gasped. Lacey was rotating her straw around her glass of butterbeer in anticipation but otherwise no one noticed the exchange.

I opened up the napkin in my lap: _What a lovable sister you have._ I tapped Lacey and she handed me her wand.

 _Your point?_ I wrote back.

 _Revenge is more exciting than protection._

I balled the napkin inside my hand and tossed it into my empty glass of butterbeer. Confused and a bit dazed, I excused myself and rushed into the heated rain. Hogsmeade was steaming with fog and the winter seemed indecisive of which season it was. I wound my way back into the castle, my mind set sternly onto a mission upon whom no one could stop me. I stepped into Snape's classroom and closed the door, not stupefied that he was failing people on a Saturday.

"I have some information that may be of interest to you," I said and he put his quill down.


	19. In the Still of the Night

"Slow _down,_ Greengrass," Snape drawled. "Go to your happy place of music and Muggles and then speak."

I took a deep breath, seething. "I think I know where the secret meetings are being held."

"I see. And why haven't you taken this up with Umbridge? I assure you, she won't be happy if she knows I've found out before her. Only James Potter has a bigger ego than that woman, if I do say so myself."

"What do you feel about them in a secret meeting?"

" _Green_ grass, what an inappropriate question for a teacher!"

I almost stamped my foot. "Professor, if they're using magic—"

Snape sighed. "If there is one person in authority more detestable than Albus Dumbledore in this school, it must be Dolores. No, they should not be having any surreptitious meetings. But are they allowed to use magic? Yes. And should they be prevented from studying defensive spells? _No._ Albus has his queer ways, but he has never prevented students from readying themselves. However, the one thing they have in common is being ignoramuses and hiding under their delusions….

" _I_ should be teaching that class. _I_ should be teaching them defensive spells. And Albus has made yet another mistake from preventing me. But _let me tell you,_ the skills they are preparing will be useful in the next few years."

"But—" I looked towards the door "—aren't we on the Dark Lord's Side?"

Snape sneered at my glazed pretentiousness. "You silly girl. Any defensive spell can be honed in the opposite direction. A strong Wizard is a strong Wizard. Surely with a bit of … control can the issue be resolved. Now: Tell me where they are."

"Well, now that you mention it, I'm not one hundred percent sure—"

"You've interrupted my grading, Greengrass. Tell me or you'll do your next lab alone."

That did it. "The Room of Requirement."

Snape's micro-expression of recognition made me realize that he did not expect me to be accurate in my discovery. There was a flicker or understanding and almost impressiveness of those who had decided upon meeting there. It all made sense to him. I stood there in silence, busying myself with studying my nails.

"How do you know that?' he suddenly snapped.

"I—I just—"

"You can tell me if you've been there. Just tell me how you know."

Was this a mistake? What exactly was I revealing to him and of what importance was it? "I've had some trouble getting in, yes. Like I said, I'm not positive. But out of everywhere in Hogwarts…."

"Yes." He sifted through his papers but was not visibly looking for anything.

"What are you going to do about it?" I asked.

"Well, I will not be telling Albus. But this matter is of great interest to me. I want you to find out who is in there and what they are doing. I suppose no Slytherins have been invited, and magic is unreliable in such rooms, but we will see. Right now I want to know why you have come rushing in this room from Hogsmeade to tell me this."

"The only reason why I even care to find out is because I've been forced into the Inquisitorial Squad. But others want to know and get the credit. Some of them think I know."

"Ah, and they've been blackmailing you. And I'm certain there is plenty to blackmail you about. For a fourteen-year-old girl, you are just brimming with flaws."

"What should I do about it?" I asked quietly. Snape's words had brought me over the edge and filled my eyes with tears.

"I am afraid, but not really, that I can't help you there, Greengrass. Unless they actually carry out real threats, this school has bigger things to worry about. _I_ have bigger things to worry about than schoolgirl rumors. I suggest you forget about the scared little persons behind it. Now please, I have students to fail."

The notes inside my robe pocket burnt holes as I left Snape's room. I never even thought to show them to him. The fight inside me had left.

On Monday morning as I made my way to the Great Hall for breakfast, someone folded their arms around me and I started. I started even more upon discovering it was Daphne. "Oh thank you, Stor! Look!"

"What?" I asked, trying to concentrate on the letter she shoved in my face. Wiping the remainder of sleep from my eyes, I scanned the parchment.

 _Daphne,_

 _Let's meet at the Astronomy Tower tomorrow at eleven. I want to talk to you about something._

 _J_ _Blaise_

Oh, Merlin. This letter reeked of an excess of butterbeer and other substances. The letter incensed me because it seemed Blaise was already softening. Would he recall our deal of vengeance?

I looked at my sister and the genuine joy that adorned her face. Of course, I was a terrible person for even wishing another grievance upon her. However, it was not that I wished to hurt her, but teach her how it felt to be used. At least she was thankful of me. But I was not as selfless and perfect as she thought.

"I wonder what he wants to talk about. That smiley face leads me to believe he wants us to get back together. It's a good sign he's even written me!"

"I'm happy for you, Daphne. Uh … let me know how it goes," I replied before I was beckoned by Ethan.

"Leave it to you to be stunning on a Monday morning," he said, shoving porridge into his face.

"It's called makeup." I blushed anyway.

"Lacey's wearing makeup," he said pointedly as Lacey skipped her way to our table. I kicked him hard underneath the table.

Before Lacey had even made it over to our section, Adrian slipped his arm over her shoulder and settled beside her. He brought some liveliness to what would have been a boring conversation with a miserable attitude. Adrian fit well into the group, bringing a sense of consistency and emotional stability to a group of young adolescents.

"So, how's the situation going?" Adrian asked me.

I started to open my mouth. "What situation?" Ethan asked.

"Stor's being blackmailed," Lacey said and I gave her a look. "What, you're always too voluntary with information so I figured he already knew."

"I'm coming back to that comment later," I said.

"Who's blackmailing you, Astoria?"

"Sorry," said Adrian. I waved him on.

"Draco Malfoy," I whispered. As if the name summoned the boy, Malfoy sauntered into the Great Hall late for morning announcements. He scanned the table with his eyes before sitting down with Pansy—and get this—Blaise and my sister. His eyes settled on mine with a smirk and I felt the nerves in my fingers tingle.

"Isn't he over New Year's by now?"

"This isn't just about New Year's. It's also about the Inquisitorial Squad. He wants me to tell him information about where the secret meetings are being held."

"You know? That's awesome! Let's crash a meeting!" From the front, Dumbledore signaled the warning bell to the commencement of classes. Ethan scooted underneath the table to my side to he could talk with me as we walked to Care of Magical Creatures.

"How would we do that?" I asked. "We're Slytherins."

"Polyjuice Potion takes too long to make. Where'd you say they meet again?"

"I didn't. But…." I looked around quickly before speaking into Ethan's ear. "The Room of Requirement."

"Oh, that's easy! We can just spy on their meeting. We can ask the room for a secret spying room."

"Or we could just hide inside the Steinway. There's enough room in there with a Shrinking charm," I suggested.

"Perfect. They might wonder why a piano is in there, but who would hurt a grand?"

We walked onto the grounds, our feet falling faster as we took off down the hill. "And what will this accomplish exactly?"

"Malfoy isn't the only one capable of blackmail, you know." We knuckle-punched before separating into our groups.

"The reason why I've moved our lesson to today is because we've missed so many since Christmas!" Professor Burbage announced once we had all gotten into her classroom. "Now, this is a topic I've been waiting all year to get to: Muggle music in Muggle movies." There were a few intercollected gasps as if she was speaking blasphemy. "Now, have any of you heard of _Star Wars_?" Ethan raised his hand but she ignored it. "Oh, dear. _Gone With the Wind_? _West Side Story_? Well, that was a Broadway musical first. _The Wizard of Oz_?" Burbage looked close to tears. "Why, you've been deprived, dear children. Not even _The Godfather_?"

Finally, a few students raised their hands. Burbage chuckled. "We'll start with that." With a flick of her wand, a beautiful soundtrack came on with an eerie musical tone. "The music may seem different to you. It's because there are Italian instruments. _The Godfather_ is a famous movie about Italian Americans in the Mafia. But I suppose plot is for another time.

"'Speak Softly Love' by Andy Williams is my favorite." Promptly, "Speak Softly Love" came on, and it was beautiful. "It's in a minor key but still manages to take a certain amount of tenderness above darkness."

After we had finished listening to _The Godfather_ soundtrack, Professor Burbage introduced us to the famous interludes from the aforementioned movies. She summarized the major themes in the movies, explaining to us that the music everyone familiarized themselves with brought about this repetitive emotion involving the its main idea. Ethan teared up when she showed us a clip of _Titanic,_ a Muggle movie about a ship being sunk. Too bad there were no Wizards there to fix that boat. Professor Burbage showed us another famous tragic Muggle love story from 1968 called _Romeo and Juliet._ The people were quite good-looking and the music was filled with beautiful lutes, classical voices, and lilting progressions in "Impetuous Youth."

"I suggest that you all read _Romeo and Juliet_ sometime. It's a beautiful Muggle play."

"It's a play too?" someone asked.

Hermione Granger raised her hand. "I don't really like _Romeo and Juliet._ Shakespeare wrote so many better plays. _Romeo and Juliet_ won't make anyone here want to study Muggle culture. It shows, if anything, that Purebloods are right thinking that Muggles are rash creatures that make bad decisions."

"You're exactly right, Hermione," said Burbage. "Which is exactly why they should read it."

"These are some personal favorites. Have any of you heard of boxing?" She did not wait for anyone to raise their hands. "Boxing is a Muggle sport where a person puts on gloves and punches another guy out." A few of the blokes seemed interested by the punching game. "Well, the famous song 'Eye of the Tiger' is from _Rocky_ , a movie about a boxer. Watch this scene."

My scowl at the uninteresting premise lightened when I watched a man running through Muggle streets, encouraged by people. Horns began to play and the song 'Eye of the Tiger' blared through the speakers as he alighted stairs. We all cheered for him when he got to the top and none of us understood why.

"Now, tell me why you rooted for Rocky when you have no idea who he really is or what this movie is about."

"The music empowered us to identify with whatever he was fighting for," a Ravenclaw said.

She nodded. "What can you understand about music in famous movies? What does it bring to the audience?"

I raised my hand. "It makes the audience emotional. Then because of that, the audience is able to feel connected with the characters because they understand them."

"That's why a lot of famous artists write for movies, right?" Ethan asked. "Because they know how to market them."

"You're right, Mr. Travers. You're both looking at music in movies as something marketable, which it is. It's used to bring this extra magic to movies."

"Because they don't have real magic," mumbled a Slytherin.

Instead of chastising them, Burbage smiled. "One could argue that it's because they don't need it. While we create magic, the Muggles are able to make their own. The purpose of this class is to teach you once a week that there is something to learn from that. You do not have to become a Muggle, but it's important to understand their culture and not be prejudiced against them. It's always important to appreciate people who manage to do things differently—"

"That's it. I'm done with this. You're out of line," the same Slytherin said. They stood up and slammed the door. Burbage turned around from the podium, the music cut abruptly short.

"Class dismissed," she almost whispered.

Students looked at one another in silence for a few seconds and then began to take their things and remove themselves from the classroom. I stood up, looking at Ethan to do something.

"Professor Burbage?" he began.

"Please, leave me." She would not look at us. "Please." We could feel her begin to cry. However, we had to obey her wishes and so left the classroom. We tiptoed down the hallway as if to contain the sacredness of a disrupted space in that classroom she occupied.

"It's not right, what they did," Ethan said, breaking the silence.

"Do you think we'll ever have another lesson?"

He shook his head. "She's been shoved around so many times by students. And with Umbridge on her case, one report from a bad student and she could get fired. It's just not worth it."

"Why does she care at all, then?" I asked.

"She probably was in love with a Muggle or something. I mean, she _is_ a Half-blood. It can't be as simple as liking the culture. I mean, I like Indian food but I'm not about to take a hajj there."

"Food doesn't encompass full _culture,_ Ethan. Even I'll admit that. And Muslims take hajjes. You're the Muggle here!"

"It doesn't mean I'm a religious guru," Ethan replied, blushing.

As we began to alight the stairs, Ethan had to catch me as I tripped because Loony Lovegood was running full speed ahead of us. Cursing and grasping his hand in thanks, I looked after Loony with the end of my eyebrow raised. My shoes sending echoes across the marble steps, I walked upwards, calling her name. She pretended not to hear me and so I casted a loudness charm to purposefully annoy her.

"Yes?" Loony asked in her flitting tone of voice.

I swished my robes and hair as I approached her, taking a ditzy aura unbecoming of a Slytherin. "I have a question about the music we've been doing in Frog Choir." My ego crossed its fingers.

"I'm sorry Astoria, but I've got to get somewhere. Why don't you find me at lunch? I'm always alone eating in the broom closet."

Ethan shot me a look. "But Loony-a! This can't wait. Frog Choir is Thursday. I need to have my music down _now._ I needed to have the descant down five days ago!"

"I wouldn't even know the descant, Astoria. I've been too busy with—warbles. They take up all my spare time. Why don't you ask another soprano?"

"I can't! You're the only one who I really _trust,_ Luna. You're the only one who pulls through and actually sings." This was true, albeit she did not sing _well._

Loony appeared to be checking a Galleon on the inside of her palm. Ethan craned his neck over my shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse at it. "I—I just _can't help you_. Please, don't make me be mean! I've got to go. Now." And with that she scuttled down the corridor.

I grabbed Ethan's wrist. "Come on."

"You can't be serious. We need disguises and an actual plan before we go gallivanting into the Room of Requirement!"

"Cart your arse up these stairs now, Ethan Travers!"

Ethan obeyed my request but looked terrified to be infringing on a stupid, secret meeting between the goodies of the school. Over Ethan's shallow breathing, I listened to Loony's footsteps echoing as she ran up various staircases. She was taking an alternate route to the Room of Requirement but it was doubtless that she was heading for the seventh floor. My nerves tingling in delight, we peered over the edge of the wall to see Loony walk back and forth three times before entering. She was so frazzled she had not even suspected that anyone might be watching.

"Let us be concealed but in the same room as the others," I said with all my might as I walked back and forth. The doors swung open, revealing nothing but darkness.

"I'm scared, Stor," said Ethan, putting his arms around my waist and laughing a bit. I walked slowly forwards, listening for a sound. Putting my hands out and stretching my arms, I came across a barrier. It felt like a wall divider except it seemed to be made out of an actual translucent wall. Pressing my ear to the hard material, I listened through and heard excited voices from the other side.

"That's it, Neville! You're getting it!" This was unmistakably Harry Potter. A few moments later, his voice ventriloquized across the room, encouraging someone else. There was the noise of a spell being cast and it had the white light of defensive magic.

Suddenly, a few familiar voices spoke so directly near my ear that I jumped in midair. "Don't be afraid, Fay. You've just gotta strike—wait no, don't hit me!" There was soft laughter and the sound of two people running into one another as if to give an affectionate hug. I gasped and turned towards Ethan who was eavesdropping on another conversation.

"Astrix and Fay are here," I whispered harshly. He shrugged and kept listening.

I removed my ear from the wall. "She's my friend and she never told me about this."

"The meeting, or her budding love affair with Astrix?"

"Both!"

"Sh, who knows if this thing is soundproof."

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "I'm done here. I don't even know what I expected to find. Or what I was so excited about."

"Neither did I but now I do! This is incredible. Don't you realize the gravity of what they're doing? They're not only teaching themselves but also doing material way ahead of their years. And it's all because of Harry Potter."

"Yes, and it's not fair!" I exclaimed. "We're never included in anything. It's like we're taboo!"

There was silence from the opposite side of the wall. I looked at Ethan with widened eyes.

"Hurry," he whispered, grasping my hand and leading my outside of the Room of Requirement. Casting a speeding charm, we sprinted down the corridor without getting out of breath.

"I'm sorry," I said, my eyes welling up with tears. "You were excited about this and I ruined it."

"Don't work yourself up, Stor. Your opinion isn't wrong. But you've got to understand where they're coming from. Even the least evil people in Slytherin still have to do evil things to get by."

"You mean, like me being on the Dark Side to protect my family?" I asked.

Ethan nodded.

"Well, they've got to understand _why_ we're like that! They think they're so heroic. _Harry Potter,_ " I imitated in a nasal tone. "Well, you know what I say about 'Harry Potter'? Screw him. Screw Harry Potter. If he was so good at being a hero, then he would at the very least understand where we come from, us Slytherins. Better yet, he could actually do a thing about it!"

"He's only a boy, Astoria," said Ethan.

"A boy that has no problem risking his life for his friends but has a problem risking his life for the good of all! They think he's such a hero. Well, there's two types, Ethan. There's the type that would have rolled over and died the night his parents were killed and then there's the type that lives with the scar. That's the fighting type. So what? Just because he's a 'fighter' doesn't make him any better than the rest of us. He's just ordinary. I just wish everyone would stop glorifying him." I exhaled.

Ethan stopped in front of the dungeon. "Is this just coming on or has it been built up inside you?"

"I think it's been built up and I haven't even realized it. I just feel left out of this whole thing. I know that seems illogical because I'm on the Inquisitorial Squad and plotting with Snape and everything, but—"

"Plotting with Snape? What?"

I froze. "I—well, Snape just asks me a few questions every week. That's it. It's to protect my family, like you said before."

"I feel like there's something you're not telling me," Ethan rejoined.

"Do you think I'd lie to you?! I just—"

Ethan grabbed my wrists, trying to instill a reverie inside my hystericalness. "Astoria," he said, and he was so close I could see my tortured reflection in his brown eyes, "you don't have to worry. I understand."

I stepped backwards and Ethan muttered the password. My thanks was lost as we entered the bustling common room that was filled with a contrasting noise compared to the empty hallway. Anything that had been real faded away into dust as we settled onto the couches and into the semblance people put into life.

"Wanna play cards?" Lacey asked, shoving food into her mouth. She, Adrian, Marcus Flint, and several other members of the Quidditch team were engaged in a game.

I looked around. This was an advantageous opportunity to play a stimulating mind game with cute boys. But it was just not my night.

"Sorry Lacey, but I'm exhausted. Ethan might want to play, though." Ethan glanced at the cards sitting in a pile but then retreated in excuses when a few of the boys gave him a glare. It was too much for me to see him being rejected by others just because of his birth. I got up, bidding Lacey and Adrian good night, and walked upstairs to my dormitory.

* * *

I fell asleep straightaway. When I awoke, moonlight was streaming through the thinner parts of the blinds. The sleeping forms of the Carrow twins and Lacey huddled from the opposite corners of the room and breathed in simultaneous peacefulness. Olivia's bed laid made with every pillow in place. I adjusted my covers and pulled them back so as to be underneath my comforter. As I rustled around, Olivia came into the room.

" _Lumos,_ " she whispered, the tip of her wand emitting a ball of light. She sat down on a stool in front of her makeup mirror and began removing her makeup. Her beautiful complexion was lit up by the wand, causing a strange contrast with the dark in which her features were accentuated.

I was wide awake so I decided to start a conversation. "How's your night been?"

"Useless." Olivia made a frustrated gesture, causing her face cream's container to topple over and clatter over the dresser. "I was supposed to meet Malfoy again but he never showed up."

My interest was piqued. "Wow. I never pictured you ever getting stood up."

"It wasn't a _date,_ Astoria. It was a hook up. There's a difference. And frankly, it's more upsetting to be stood up when someone is supposed to make-out with you."

"Why? Doesn't that kind of negate a person's value anyway?"

"People like me don't do _dates,_ is what I mean. We do hook-ups, and if someone doesn't show up, it's like they're … saying we're not hot enough for them to spend their time. A boy usually doesn't—"

"What, so you just say 'meet here' and…?"

Olivia let out a soft laugh. "Oh Astoria, you have a lot to learn."

"Stop talking to me like I'm a child," I stated.

"Well, you are. It's not a bad thing. You just are."

I rolled my eyes. "So are you. Stop pretending that you aren't." I looked at her face, removed from all traces of makeup and still pretty—but only pretty. She was not beautiful because she was still fourteen years old and had to grow into herself. "Why do you care so much?"

Olivia walked over to me and I swore she was going to curse or slap me. But instead of doing either of those things, she unraveled my covers and helped me stand up. She walked around my form and adjusted my robes so that my skirt and blouse showed and that the long coat with the Slytherin insignia was removed. Holding her wand so close to my face that my eyes stung, she put a few dabs of eyeliner where the makeup from the day before had worn off.

"Come on," Olivia said, "I'll show you why I care."

"Uh, Olivia, we have school tomorrow—"

"Shut _up,_ Astoria! You're about to live for the first time in your life."

Olivia dragged me outside of the dormitory and into the deserted common room. "Wait here," she told me. I stood in the green lamplight and watched as she stomped upstairs to the boy's dormitory. A light came on and it sounded like someone was getting hit repeatedly.

"I'm telling you, Liv, he's not here!" came a voice that sounded like Malcolm's. She must have hit him again, not liking his answer. The light went off and Olivia returned downstairs to the common room and walked straight out of the dungeon. I followed, bewildered about what was happening.

"Why were you looking for Niles?" I asked.

"Because I haven't had real action since before Christmas break! Niles has been preoccupied with something and won't pay me any attention. It's quite upsetting."

"You never used to be like this," I said, trying to keep up with her longer legs. "Dependent on blokes. I used to admire you for being bold but still not—"

"Shh!" she gasped suddenly, and whipped her arm out so that I was thrown against the wall. I must have collided into a picture because it protested against my body. We waited to hear a voice or approaching footsteps but instead only heard a banging noise from inside an adjacent classroom. Someone appeared to be struggling because we heard muffled yells and movements, as if they were pulling against something.

I started to move outwards and in the direction of the classroom. Olivia grabbed my arms fiercely. "What do you think you're doing?"

I threw her off me. "Someone's in there."

"We're not doing this. We're supposed to be finding my Ravenclaw boys and Draco and Niles if they're available, or even Malcolm for you—"

I laughed a bit too loudly. "Yes, because Malcolm would want to make-out with me."

"So what? You're not ugly and he's not straight but that doesn't mean—"

" _Alohamora,_ " I said and the door swung open. Olivia stopped talking and peered inside the almost unoccupied classroom, helping me see by waving her wand around. In the back of the classroom was a heaped form, bound and gagged by a worn out Stupefying charm. Olivia hung onto my arm, scared as she looked around my shoulder at the anonymous person. I walked towards them slowly, my wand trained on them. When I was near enough, I turned them abruptly so that they would be face-up.

"Blaise!" I gasped.

Blaise was indeed before me, half-paralyzed in a moment of stupefaction. He tried speaking but was able only to utter unintelligible swear-words.

"Who did this?" I asked.

"Where are they is the better question," said Olivia, crossing her arms.

Blaise pointed at Olivia furiously and began attempting to describe some magical potion or another. Olivia stared for a few seconds into space and then looked at me.

"Someone pretended to _be_ Blaise," she whispered.

"I know who it is. Oh Merlin," I said, sinking onto my knees. "And I know why he did it."

"To get to your sister, right? That's a sick person, wanting to score with her like that. There's more to it, isn't there?" Olivia suspected.

I nodded. "He wants information. We've got to go tell Snape."

Olivia snorted, something unfeminine and unlike what she showed to the world. "Snape is asleep. Or maybe not because he's a vampire. We've got to settle this ourselves before it gets out of hand."

I assessed the situation for a moment, knowing this was illogical and probably unwise. However, Olivia was courageous and cunning, or at least cunning, and if she was willing to help, I was willing to do this with her.

"Hold tight, Blaise," I said. "We can't disrupt the evidence." I turned on a lamp and let it burn so that he would be able to see and then we left the room.

"It's Draco," I said angrily. "He's been trying to interrogate and blackmail me because … because of the Inquisitorial Squad. He's using my sister to get to me."

Olivia's eyebrows shot up. "Okay, Astoria. You've got to do what I say when I say it. Who knows how long Blaise has been in there already? A Polyjuice potion doesn't last more than an hour at a time. It might be too late to prevent what Daphne's told Draco, but we might be able to sack him."

"Maybe we should tell—"

"No. Snape will confront him, smirk, and let him go. Just follow my lead. Where do you think your sister is?" she asked.

I thought for a moment and then it dawned on me. "Oh, Merlin—'Blaise' wrote her telling her to meet at the Astronomy Tower!"

Olivia nodded calmly and we raced up to the Astronomy Tower, all the while praying that we would not be seen. It was a Monday night, so professors were likely sleeping or grading papers than scouting for students out after curfew. We ran on the inside of the walls, keeping our eyes out for Prefects and the like. Just as we were on our way to the Astronomy Tower, we saw a familiar form darting towards us. I groaned inwardly.

"Niles!" Olivia whispered. He turned towards us and approached us almost wearily. "What are you doing?"

"None of your business."

"Very true." I turned away as she started seducing him with her words, feeling disturbed to the highest degree. As I moved away towards the Tower, Olivia did not follow me or call out to halt. I waited frantically for a moment, moving upwards at a crawl. At the last minute, Daphne came rushing down and smiled when she saw me.

"Look at my sister, wanting to know how it went!"

I smiled and laughed nervously, not wanting to scare her.

"Ah, it was wonderful, Astoria!" she exclaimed, twirling. She was never so enthralled about anything. If she only knew it was her former best friend inside of Blaise's body.

"What'd you talk about?"

"Very personal things. We both promised not to repeat anything. But oh Astoria, I think he really does want to get back together! He kissed me, and it was real funny. I wish he would kiss me all sloppy like that all the time."

"Sloppy as in how?" I asked, my head tilting but not in an admirable way.

"Well, like he was drunk. But he wasn't, I swear!" I was thinking of more along the lines of inexperienced, but it was not like I was an expert in kissing.

Olivia suddenly slithered up alongside me, dragging Niles beside her. He was kissing her everywhere, drooling over her neck almost and not seeming to care much. She waved him away, seeming annoyed for someone who had begged for this treatment a minute before. " _Coming,_ Astoria?"

"Aren't you going to walk me back to my dorm?" asked Daphne, seeming disconcerted by the scenario.

"I, uh—have other plans tonight."

Daphne raised her eyebrow in Olivia's direction. "I never thought I'd be saying this, but be careful, Astoria." She leaned over to whisper in my ear. "I'd rather you hang with the Muggle than her."

"I'm fine," I said out loud. "Have a good night. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Thank Merlin she's gone," said Niles. "What a drag. Now tell me what the bloody hell is going on, Liv. What's this doing here?" He looked me over.

"What _is_ this?" came a familiar drawling voice. I shielded my eyes from the light of Draco's wand piercing into my corneas.

"There you are, Draco," said Olivia.

"What are you even doing?" asked Niles.

"My Prefect duties. I'm patrolling the grounds for scum like you. And what are you doing awake?"

Niles crossed his arms and approached Draco as if he was a match for him. What a fool. "At this hour?"

"Well, I mean, I—" I shot a look at Olivia.

"You had plans, I understand," she said, smiling at him. He halted, seeming a bit uncomfortable. "Come, do you think Astoria's pretty, Draco?" I felt my entire body go still. "I heard she might as well be her sister in the dark." Olivia came up behind me and held me by my shoulders, pushing my vegetative body towards Draco. Was I supposed to do something? Why couldn't I move?

"Kiss him and then get his wand," Olivia whispered into my ear. With one last movement, she shoved me in Draco's direction, causing me to literally stumble into him. How could I trust Olivia's judgment when she was ten feet away making slurping noises with Niles? I looked up at Draco's form, hidden by the dark. His hands sent a searing cold heat spreading from around my arms to every inch of my body. I had never experienced so much hatred of anyone in my entire life.

The darkness shifted towards me. Instead of closing, my eyes remained so open that I could feel the sharpness of the air pass through them. However, there was no sensation on my lips but on my neck, where Draco's wand pressed. He leaned in close.

"Tell me where it is," he whispered.

"But you know!"

"How would I know?" He shook me and glanced in the direction of Niles and Olivia, still engaged in physical contact. " _Muffliato._ "

"You were Blaise tonight!" I whispered back harshly. "You pretended to meet up with Daphne. You—"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"You took a Polyjuice Potion! Don't deny it—"

"You're off your shitter, Greengrass. While you've been off doing Merlin knows what with that little slut, I've done nothing but offer to help you and your sister in return for a favor."

"Yeah, right. You left me a letter threatening Daphne and then gave Olivia a hickey at the same time. You're sick, Malfoy!"

Draco sneered. "You're stupid for believing her. Take a look from out your arse, Greengrass. The perpetrator you're talking about is right under your nose. Looks like you're in even deeper shite now." Draco grasped me harder and was about to shove me backwards with great force but then shook his head, letting me off easy. "The next time I see you, you better be ready." He pushed me backwards into the wall with one hand, his serpentine ring gleaming. I prepared myself for pain but none came.

"Blaise," I blurted suddenly. "He's in Flitwick's classroom." Draco nodded and was gone.

I felt the _Mulffliato_ charm dissipate and with it whatever remaining but perverted security Draco brought with his presence. I started to walk away, watching Olivia and Niles out of the corner of my eye.

 _Niles._

* * *

 **A/N:** I guess I've been busier than I thought this summer (nothing lit; well lit for me because I've been immersed in music). So I basically just wrote this without editing or proofreading! (Try to) enjoy and hopefully I'll get to editing errors and such soon. Have a nice weekend!


	20. The Diversion

The following morning, it seemed as if I awakened into a parallel universe. In the common room, Blaise and my sister were fraternizing as if there had been no altercation between them. They were not the familiar couple of before but were definitely involved again. Had Blaise just gone along with the proposed make-up that Daphne had had with his Polyjuice partner the night before? Passing between them with Lacey and Ethan in tow, I could see a glint of mischief in Blaise's eyes that was too Slytherin for comfort.

The Great Hall was alive that morning with the prattle of students who had gathered their second wind. Although I was debilitated from the night before, I felt matured and therefore rejuvenated.

Lacey poured layers of syrup over her waffles, watching as it permeated the indented shapes. Just as Ethan began stuffing his face with scrambled eggs, Dumbledore signaled for us to listen. Stupefied at the sudden need to convey a message and so early, everyone quieted at once.

"Good morning all. I have a quick message for all of you before you go to your classes. I regret to inform you that Professor Trelawney has been … suspended until further notice." Chatter erupted throughout the tables. "Please, no gossiping. I am informing you because those of you taking Divination will have a new Professor as of this morning. His name is Firenze." Dumbledore turned to address a Centaur who Umbridge may have disapproved of more than Trelawney herself. The Centaur waved at us. I was devastated that the upper half of a half-horse was so good-looking.

"Thank you _Umbridge,_ " I said quietly, and Lacey snorted.

Ethan scowled. "This isn't good. She's influencing teachers' employment. The _Ministry_ shouldn't have power here."

"It disgusts me," I replied. "How far will she go?"

"Until she can be stopped. And that's impossible to know. Even Dumbledore has limitations compared to the Ministry."

"I'd never put my faith in him anyway."

Lacey wiped her face with a napkin. "Stor, wanna go talk to Fay with me? We haven't been over to the Ravenclaw table in a while."

"Oh, I've been meaning to tell you!" Ethan covered his face in his hands. "Fay and Astrix are a thing."

"Wait, when did she tell you this?!"

"She didn't. Should we tell her?" I asked Ethan. He shrugged.

"Have you lot been keeping me in the dark?" Lacey crossed her arms. "How unfair!"

"That's what happens when you have Quidditch practice eight days a week." I then proceeded to inform her of our excursion from the night previous in the Room of Requirement, and after highlighting to both of them the interaction between Niles and Draco. Ethan sat there being pragmatic while Lacey and I walked over to the Ravenclaw table.

Fay jumped when she saw us. She was surrounded by a group of her friends, more engaging than most of the times we had been there. "Hey girls, what's up?"

"Are you dating Astrix?" Lacey asked, smiling.

She hesitated before answering. "I guess…. Who told you?"

"Why didn't you tell us?" I bit back.

A side of Fay that I had never seen gathered up into a defensive stance that could not be penetrated. "It's my business. Besides, you wouldn't approve of a Gryffindor."

"Oh, we approve of Gryffindors," said Lacey. "It's just a question of if we approve of Astrix!" They laughed together as if the entire exchange had not been tense but I stood there, unmoving and shooting out darts from my eyes.

"Can you believe it about Trelawney?"

"I know, it's terrible what Umbitch is doing!"

"I wonder if Hogwarts will ever be the same again. It seems like we're so divided about everything."

I flipped my hair and turned as if to leave, as the warning bugle announced its presence. "What else is new?" With my stung pride and hurt feelings, I made my way back towards the table. Ethan gestured to my place, saying that a letter had been delivered. I opened it, expecting it to be a precursor to my parents wanting to inform me to keep up good behavior and stay in Inquisitor Squad. However, it had the same font of my blackmailer. My stomach pooled around my feet.

 _Happy Breakfast. Hopefully you don't upchuck when you read this warning: Your sister's "magical status" will be revealed to all if you don't tell me where it is._

Ethan ripped the letter from my hand. I shouted at him to give it back, causing a few Slytherins to stare at us. I looked outwards for Draco and Niles while Ethan scribbled something on the paper. The second warning bugle sounded and everyone arose in an automated daze. When my eyes and Draco's met, he stared at me as if _he_ was the terrified one; as if he were seeing me for the first time. It was very droll. As for Niles, he smirked.

The letters flashed before my eyes.

Ethan sealed the letter, handing it to me for when I was to deliver it to the Owlry.

"What'd you write?"

"'Meet me at the Quidditch pitch next Inquisitorial Squad, Draco. It should be convenient because you have practice then.'"

I reached into my robe pocket, prepared to rip the letter. "Are you crazy?" I whispered to Ethan, halting before the corridor and letting students pass. "You don't get it, do you? There were two people blackmailing me. Draco was trying to get me roped into it by _protecting_ Daphne, and Niles found out about it in the first place because I responded to _him._ "

There was a moment of silence. "I know."

"Then what would you write that for?"

Ethan smirked. "Niles doesn't."

"Are you telling me you didn't do your _project?_ " I rolled my eyes at Umbridge, who was yelling at a student in front of the entire class.

"I _did_ do it!" cried an undersized Gryffindor. "I just need my bloody wand to show you my presentation!"

"Ooh, cursing at a teacher is a big no-no! Cursing in general is Proclamation number 57." Umbridge filled out a sheet of paper. "Perhaps expulsion will help you realize and understand your grave mistake of being disrespectful to an authority figure. Hm, and they say that wands are good in the hands of the mentally and emotionally unstable! Least of all, _children_ should are not responsible enough to handle them at such a tender age. Do sit down.

"You don't understand now, but you will all thank me someday for this." I shot Lacey and Ethan a glance. "Wands are so powerful and should not be used when your brains are not even developed to make such important decisions." She tee-heed. "If I had it my way—or if the Ministry had it theirs—you wouldn't be able to even hold a wand until you were eighteen!"

Even Niles and Malcolm visibly snorted at this.

"Now, before we get off track. Who is next to present their project?"

"Me," said Niles. A disgusting prickling sensation like gooseflesh erupted onto my body. He was terrible and no one saw through it. I watched carefully so as not to lose sight of him as he stood up and took to the front of the classroom. Niles raised a crudely drawn parchment. The word "SQUIB" was written across the top. I swore that he smirked at me.

"Squib-a person who is born from a Wizard and cannot do any magic," Niles read off of the parchment. He proceeded to read off the parchment verbatim because he was one of those people. "Not only a disgraceful embarrassment to the Wizarding community, Squibs are a rarefied species not believed to be quite normal. They are out-casted from any normal societal living and quarantined or sent to live with Muggles. If someone is discovered to be a Squib and they have been Squibs secretly, they are disowned from their families. It is especially bad if a Pureblood is discovered to be a Squib. If this happens, they must be either kept hidden or the entire family risks to be labeled as 'Blood Traitors.' Some believe that any Pureblood discovered to be a Squib has some Muggle-born blood mixed in the family tree. Since Squibs can force an entire family to lose their reputation, the family might not be able to practice magic any more. Their entire lives could be in danger and they would be akin to Adam and Eve wandering the land.

"If you know a Squib or suspect someone of being a Squib, please call this hotline." Niles began to read off the number. "The end."

There were some scanty claps amongst Umbridge's loudest one of her plump hands. "Wonderful presentation, Mr. Handley. What inspired you to research Squibs?"

Niles grinned. "Oh, it was just a thrilling subject."

My heart was pounding in my ears and in my veins and I was about to hyperventilate. Just in time, Ethan leveled the situation by whispering to me, turning his head slightly.

"Your sister isn't even a Squib. She can do magic."

"Even if she couldn't, he's just terrible." I should have felt tears prickling behind my eyes, but instead I felt outright rage.

The bell rang suddenly to signal the end of class. As I stood up to gather my belongings, Ethan grasped my arm and leaned over to whisper to me. "He wants this to trigger you. Walk past him with your shoulders straight. That way he'll have gotten his point across without it getting to you."

I nodded, and gathering a semblance of confidence from Ethan's reassurance, I walked past Niles and Umbridge on my way out of the classroom, stealing a cool glance across them. We caught up to Lacey in the corridor and caught her up on the logistics of that night's plans.

"What'll you think he'll do, then?" she asked. "What will _we_ do?"

"Well, he can't make a Polyjuice Potion in a few hours. So, what he'll probably do is try to confuse us in another way. The best bet is for him to come in the name of Malfoy. And we'll pretend right along with him."

"And where will that leave us?" I asked Ethan.

"Don't you girls like the element of surprise?" Lacey and I looked at each other and gulped. Ethan clapped us both on the shoulders and pushed us down the hallway. "All I can say is, are we in for an adventure tonight."

"What will do about Draco?"

"What about him? Stor, if I've learned one thing from Malfoy tossing me around into snowbanks all these years, it's that he's a big softie in disguise. He shields himself trying to bully people. Take the fact between the two blackmails you got from him versus Niles. Draco offered to _help_ your sister, while Niles threatened to tell everyone about her. Draco may be an arse, but he's at least loyal to his fellow Purebloods. People like Niles, who divide others, are dangerous in this world. They are the type of people who You-Know-Who wants to serve him—"

"Would you be quiet!" Lacey snapped. "You're already a Muggleborn Slytherin, Ethan. Make references about the Dark Lord in public and you'll be a _dead_ Muggleborn Slytherin."

Ethan turned towards me. "Anyway, we'll worry about Malfoy later. But remember that he could be of some use to you in the future, so don't discount giving him information completely."

"But—I need this for myself."

"Don't worry. I'll clear this all up for you."

I certainly hoped that he would. I sat down and began eating, pensive with my thoughts. As Ethan gobbled down turkey in an innocent fashion, I remembered the first day of school three years ago when he had Transfigured the Gryffindors into cockroaches. I had avoided him for over six months following that excursion. Although there were downfalls being friends with a Muggleborn, Ethan seemed to have more assets than what meets the eye. He may have been a loyal comrade to me and the brunt of slurs in our House, but he was capable of a cunning streak. Merlin knows we would need it tonight.

I steadied my wand in my hand and placed it in my pocket before entering Snape's classroom. Of course, he called on me that afternoon about needing me after dinner. Not only was I unable to practice piano that night, but I did not have time to go over a plan with Ethan and Lacey. I knocked on the door. What could he possibly want with me at this inopportune time?

The door swung open of its own volition. "Miss Greengrass, do come in. Please, sit down."

This was strange. At the last few meetings with him, Snape had been multitasking because I was not of singular interest to him. However, his papers and potions had been put away and I found myself sitting across from him at his desk.

"I want you to tell me everything you know about those meetings."

"What room?"

Snape leaned over the desk to glare into my eyes. "The Room of _Requirement,_ you adolescent dunce!"

"How did you … know I've been there to see meetings?"

Snape rolled his eyes and settled down into his seat. "You might not be much of a Slytherin, Greengrass, but you're no Hufflepuff. I trust that you did not disturb the meetings because they would never let the likes of you witness one. So tell me what you did see."

I took a breath and was about to begin but hesitated, qualms blooming in my mind. "Why do you wish to know?"

"I'm your teacher. You obey me without question."

The look in his eyes was enough, so I began. "Well, we stood behind this wall, so we could only hear and not see what was going on—"

"Let me guess, 'we' is the Muggleborn?"

I nodded. "Anyway, we heard them performing all sorts of defensive spells. Nothing like Umbridge teaches, of course. But I also have a feeling that it was ahead of what they would be learning in their years besides. That's all I really know. Except—"

"Except what?"

"Except I'm pretty sure Potter is in charge of it all."

"Of course. Of course he is."

I halted, uncaring of whatever personal significance Potter held to Snape. "But Professor, if you could please keep this between us? You see, if I'm able to reveal this information to Umbridge firsthand, then I'd be in the best graces with everyone."

I was concerned that I would have to repeat myself because it seemed that Snape was not listening, but he snapped his head towards me at the last second. "Why haven't you told her already?"

I lowered my head. "I've been blackmailed. We're getting it all sorted out, though."

"If by sorting out you mean the night will end with a student being bound and a Polyjuice Potion gone awry, then by all means."

"You know?" I gasped.

"I'm a _teacher,_ Greengrass. I have eyes everywhere. It also does not take much to deduce simple matters such as adolescent drama. Believe it or not, I have been there before. Of course, even I cannot conclude the precise intricacies of your blackmailing situation. But heed this warning: Be cautious. Your sister's condition is nothing to play around with."

"I know…. Could you help me?"

"No," Snape snapped. "Now get out of my office. I've seen quite more than enough of you tonight."

* * *

The meeting had already started five minutes beforehand, so as I flung myself upstairs, my brain buzzed with excuses for Umbridge. When the door flew open upon my entrance and the air blew my hair back and everyone turned to look at me, I realized that it might be better to tell the truth.

"And why are you late to our meeting, Miss Greengrass?"

"I'm sorry, Professor Umbridge. Professor Snape and I had been talking—about his class, and he kept me for a longer time than I expected."

Umbridge smiled at me, satisfied with my answer. "I suppose I will be having a talk with Severus shortly about not having his students interfering with my meeting." I cursed silently, hoping that Snape would not hold this against me.

Finding the only vacant spot in the room next to Malfoy, I cringed and shuffled in. I expected him to sneer at me as per usual, but instead he pointedly avoided meeting my glance. Confused at his diffident behavior as of late, I felt a bit hopeless and out of control over the upcoming situation.

Umbridge brought me back to earth. "…and I have something particularly special to reward a student or students who discover where the meetings are being held. It is a personal award, but your House will also remember you for your deed. If this isn't incentive, I don't know what is!" She chuckled. "There is a special place for those who are able to find it, a special place in the House of Slytherin and of Hogwarts. Perhaps, someday, even in the Ministry. Are any of you interested in working in the Ministry when you become adults?" Everyone raised their hands excitedly while I raised mine slowly and only halfway. "Well, then. We do missions at the Ministry such as these all the time, but of course on a much grander scale! If you're interested in this line of work, I would be pleased to offer you an internship at the Ministry someday." It had to be the first time I had ever heard her talk of any sense. She must have been desperate for this information. What did it mean for _her_ at the Ministry?

"What if we're too young for an internship?" asked Niles. My heart halted. "Can we get a tour first?"

"Well of course, my dear boy! Everyone, I would like to share the happy news that Mr. Handley has spotted some students gathering at specific times of the night near the Astronomy Tower." I stared at him with a quizzical glare and he smiled his tight eyes at me. I then felt Draco's eyes on me and looked up at him, but he snapped his blond head away as soon as I noticed.

"Excuse me, Professor Umbridge," said Draco, seeming to be bothered by Niles's attention. "I've seen something too, but it was nowhere near the Astronomy Tower."

"What have you seen, Malfoy? And where?"

"I've seen Potter, with all of his crony friends—and that Mudblood girl!" I sent him daggers with my eyes. "Granger. They were near the Gryffindor bathrooms and had—had these coins. I didn't get to see them, but they looked like Galleons but, but they had a charm."

There was silence all around. No one was following his rapid stream of information or they assumed he was grasping at straws for attention. However, I knew better when Malfoy was this passionate about something. He did want attention, but I was not about to confirm any suspicious he had about these coins. It would only approve any sort of theory and dispel the assured information that I had.

Umbridge chuckled. "Oh, Malfoy, you know how silly Gryffindors are with their charms. I'm sure it is nothing. Go on, now!" She waved the Inquisitorial Squad members outward to search again. Niles had successfully baited everyone to search near the Astronomy Tower. Everyone began to file out, some faster and excited than others about the new "clue." Others were not convinced and bored of the typical routine.

Draco narrowed his eyes at me as I passed him, appearing dejected. Upon exiting Umbridge's office, I powerwalked to Hogwart's entryway and opened the big oak doors and entered the cool night air. If anyone interrogated me on my whereabouts, I would claim to be on a mission for the Inquisitorial Squad. Checking to assure myself that I was not being followed, I felt my way down the steps towards Hagrid's hut. I was guided by the light of the fire toasting inside the house towards the Quidditch pitch. No Slytherins were practicing today because they found it impossible to when their captain was at an Inquisitorial Squad meeting.

I felt lost among the gargantuan fields and panicked until I spotted Lacey and Ethan by the side. Walls circumvented the entire pitch, giving Slytherins a secluded area in which to practice their Quidditch techniques. If something went down here, no one would be able to see it; this could either be helpful or detrimental to our wellbeings.

"There you are!" exclaimed Ethan as I made my breathless way towards them.

"We thought you had been raped by a ghost!" said Lacey. "Or worse, given detention by Umbitch!"

"Stay in the background," I told them. "Neither of you are supposed to know about this. Especially you, Ethan. Niles could hurt you. Stay out of it until we know there's something we could use against him for sure." I turned around to find Niles approaching from the opposite direction. I twisted my face into a confused grimace.

"I know, I'm not Malfoy. He's sent me. As you know, he's busy looking for _coins_." Niles gave an ironic laugh while Lacey and Ethan shared a confused glance.

"How am I supposed to trust you with this information?" I asked.

Niles stepped forward, casting me a daunting look. "Would you like me to summon him? I'm sure he wouldn't be nearly as … um, what's the word?"

"Merciful?" Ethan quipped, nearly breaking his farce by laughing.

"Yeah, merciful. He wouldn't be nearly as merciful as me." There was a pause; this was not as terrible as imagined in the dead of night. "Well?"

I stole a glance back at Ethan and saw him urge me on with his eyes. I took a breath, trusting him. "Okay. It's in the R—"

"Wait!" shrieked Lacey. "I'm sorry, Niles. But you'll have to summon Draco. We just can't trust you alone."

"Yeah," I said slowly. "What if you took the information for yourself?"

"Look, you little cougar—" Niles's wand began to emerge from his pocket as he approached Lacey.

"Cougars are older women who like older men," Ethan corrected him.

"Oh, shut up, you Mudblood!" I gasped, for this word had more power towards my friend than any spell ever could. The world seemed to stop turning as we waited for Ethan's reaction. Even Niles, who had uttered the word, waited with baited breath. For had he meant to say it at all?

"What did I tell you about saying that word." It was not a question. "What did I tell you on the first day of school."

"Look, Travers, you're getting in the way of something. Move on out. I won't hurt her or call you anything else if you just let me—"

" _Levicorpus!_ " Ethan shouted, causing Niles to hang upside down. He held onto his wand for dear life, although it seemed to have a mind of its own. Ethan swung his arm back and forth, causing Niles to be flung about in a million directions.

After a few moments, Niles broke through the spell, falling to the ground. Just as Ethan began to raise his arm in more successive curses, Niles charged him and topped him over onto the ground. Their wands were sizzling with charms and spells as Niles tried to get Ethan's wand and Ethan struggled to defend himself.

"Stop it!" Lacey and I cried in unison. We could not approach them or break up the fight in risk of getting hit with a spell or hitting Ethan by mistake.

Suddenly, Ethan surrendered on the ground, his back on the muddied grass. His lip and nose was bleeding a bit but he was smiling for whatever queer reason. Niles was standing above him, holding his wand as if to utter a curse. Why was Ethan just lying there?

"Hold off, girls," Niles growled, "or I'll curse him to smithereens. Now will you tell me, Greengrass? Where. Is. It."

"Don't tell him, Stor," Ethan told me, spitting out a bit of blood. He looked like he was in the middle of telling a joke!

"Did I tell you to speak? _Langlo_ —"

" _Expelliarmus!_ " Niles's wand was ripped from his hand and he let out a roar of indignation. We turned to see Draco Malfoy reveal himself from the shadows of the pitch.

"It's about fooking time," Ethan mumbled.

"Now tell me, Handley, why are you acting as my imposter?"

"To trick us!" I exclaimed.

Niles paused. "You mean, you knew?"

"Of course she bloody knew," Ethan said. "We all bloody—"

" _Langlock,_ " Draco ordered, causing Ethan's tongue to be glued to the top of his mouth. He struggled underneath the spell, working with his wand to undo it. With Umbridge's lack of education, it took him longer than usual to get functioning again. However, he kept his mouth shut.

"Handley, scat."

"My wand!"

"I'll deliver it to you tomorrow. Now, scat before I shoot you with it."

Niles was devastated that he had lost. "So, it's over?"

"Yes, it's over," I sneered at him. I approached Niles slowly, causing him to back up as if he was being cornered. "Never use my sister against me again, you misogynistic prat. Or it will only come back to haunt you. Now, get out!"

Niles obeyed, scowling because he lost, and scrambled out of the Quidditch pitch. I turned back towards Draco and sighed.

"I already promised I'd protect your bloody sister," said Draco, but not harshly.

"It's over, Stor," Ethan said through another mouthful of blood. "Tell him." Lacey put a hand on my shoulder, giving me strength.

"Can this be what I owe you?" I whispered. Draco nodded and I took a breath. "The Room of Requirement." The words echoed across the pitch. Without a word, he turned and was gone. I sunk to my knees while Ethan sat up, swallowing some blood. Lacey performed a healing spell on him and he looked as good as new. But what we had just experienced together was the real fresh wound. For the worst experiences is what is remembered the most in friendships, not the good ones.

I am sure that they expected me to cry, but instead I was furious. What I discovered had been taken from me! "We were so close!" I stamped my foot.

Ethan laughed until tears of insanity came out of his eyes and I glared at him. "It's just funny because you don't see how everything went according to plan, and better."

"What do you mean?!"

Lacey smiled. "Umbitch might know where the meetings are being held, but she doesn't know how to get in. It won't be worth anything once she realizes she can't actually prove they're there."

"You're bloody geniuses!"

Ethan stood up. "There's a thin line between genius and insanity. Our friendship has erased this line."

The next morning, the Slytherin table was buzzing with hushed news about the Inquisitorial Squad's meeting the night before. Now everyone who had mocked the Squad wanted to join because it was now no longer just theory. No one cared about Umbridge or even the internship at the Ministry—they cared about banding together against the rest of the school. This was an excuse to deplore the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs officially. Even I was feeling the magic.

We were so caught up in the newest "discovery" that we had not noticed the empty place at the head of the teacher's table. However, everyone was silenced when Umbridge clapped a spoon against her glass.

"I am happy to announce," she said, "that Albus Dumbledore has been … removed by the Minstry! Please welcome me as your new Headmistress!"

A few of us laughed, thinking that it was a joke.

It wasn't.

* * *

 **A/N:** I wanted this chapter to be longer but I also wanted to get it out. The summer has certainly gotten away from me! I can't believe that it's almost over, but I also have a lot to look forward to in the upcoming year. A lot has changed in my life since I first started writing this story. Just like in _POTS,_ people are not always looking out for you, so you have to look out for yourself and your passions. I'm excited and anxious for the next few months and years in my life. I'm anxious because of real-life antagonists but excited because music and writing are the cornerstones of my life. I have no way of knowing if there will be any sort of hiatus, but if there is you'll know why.

Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter! I would love to get more reviews and it would encourage me in writing this. Review this chapter and I'll respond personally with music recommendations! Thank you in particular, Guest, for sticking with this story for so long. I hope all my readers have a fantastic rest of their summer. Remember, do what you love. And don't let anyone stop you from loving it! :)


	21. Dress Code of an Umbitch

Hogwarts was like a different place after Professor Dumbledore left. No one walked with excitement in their steps to class, the faculty environment was dour at best, and anything remotely fun was banned. Students who Umbitch hated with particular ardor were privy more than anyone to be criticized. The favoritism was worst of all; Niles Handley got away with everything compared to Ethan. Thankfully, she seemed to keep closest watch on the Gryffindors.

It was a Monday morning and I had decided to skip breakfast because I did not like spending extra time in the Great Hall with that hawk staring at me. Besides, I was debilitated from the weekend homework and was not in the mood to awaken at the earliest hour. By the time I awoke, Olivia was the only person in our room. She was brushing her hair in front of her mirror, admiring her appearance.

"What time is it?" I asked, stretching.

"First period begins in ten minutes, if that's what you're asking."

"Shit!" I exclaimed, bolting out of bed. My legs got caught between my sheets, causing me to fall with a thud onto the floor. Scrambling out of the mess, I threw off my clothes and put on my robes. I threw my hair into a ponytail and put on my specialized makeup spell. "I'm going to kill Lacey," I said. "She knew I was asleep in here and hasn't come in to wake me up."

"She's probably flirting with Hufflepuffs. Give the girl a break. I must say, I'm surprised to see you slacking off."

"Well, I haven't exactly had the lightest workload."

"Neither have I. Relax. You don't have to do every assignment."

I halted at the door. "Wait, we had a Potions essay due today!" I set my bags down, remembering how I had spent my Saturday night finishing an essay that was not planned to take five hours and made me behind in all of my assignments that weekend. The research alone had taken two hours in finding the appropriate books to cite and the right sections to write my material on. How could I have forgotten after all the hell it put me through?

I sifted through my belongings, realizing how haphazard my section of the room had gotten. Clothes were scattered in a pile and my textbooks from classes were strewn underneath the bed with parchments shoved in between the pages. "Where is it?!" Tears of panic welled up in my eyes.

Olivia rolled her eyes, setting her brush down and pointing towards Lacey's side of the room. "You threw it there when you were done because you were so angry, remember?"

I rushed towards it. "Oh yes." I hugged the rumpled parchment to my chest, indifferent that Snape might not be enthusiastic about its appearance. "Thanks, Olivia," I said sheepishly yet warily.

"Don't mention it. And don't take this the wrong way, but the last time I checked, fuzzy penguin pants were not your fashion choice to wear to class."

I looked down before hopping out of my pants and walking around with my cape on top. I threw the clothes in the pile every which way, searching for my robe pants. "Have you seen them?" I asked Olivia.

"I haven't. Just wear jeans."

"Jeans?" I balked at her. "What if a Professor sees me and orders me to change?"

"Just tell them no and walk away. That's what I always do. It's not like they want you to be late to class, and ordering you to change because of a stupid dress code rule is exactly what that'll do."

I took a deep breath. "Okay." I pulled on my jeans, which were more fashionable but not as comfortable as my robe pants. This would not be viewed as professional by my professors, who expected more out of me than Olivia.

"Don't you have class, too?" I asked Olivia.

"Yeah. I don't like to go first thing Mondays."

"I'm surprised Umbitch lets you get away with it."

"She's not as aware of things as you might think, Astoria. She doesn't care about attendance."

"She would if it was Ethan or a Gryffindor."

"Well, I'm neither a Mudblood nor a Gryffindor, am I?"

I cringed. "Don't say that word."

"I think you'd better get to class."

Fuming with rage even though she helped me, I took off at a run, almost tripping downstairs in the process. Thankfully, Snape's classroom was near the Slytherin dungeons, so I did not have to walk far. The bell rang to signal the beginning of class right as I walked in. Everyone was already seated, since most people had nothing more important to do on Monday mornings. Their heads turned as I walked in, breathing heavier than normal but holding myself with confidence. I walked over to Snape's desk and put my essay down. Flipping around, I walked over to my seat.

I turned around briefly, reveling in the wide-eyed attention. For once, I had shut everyone up. "Thanks for waking me up, Lacey." My head whipped back so it was facing the front of the classroom.

"Thank you for your essay, Greengrass. Now, is everyone settled or do any last-minute students want to waltz in?"

Ethan rushed over to me after class was terminated. "We missed you at breakfast," he said, peering over several students on the sides of me who had already packed up their books and were leaving.

"Lacey was talking to other people," Malcolm said. "I guess Travers isn't entertaining enough."

"So that's why you missed me, eh?" I joked when Malcolm was out of earshot.

Ethan paled. "No, it just wasn't the same. Mondays are bad enough, and you not being there made it even worse."

"Well, I'm sorry your miserable day was made even more miserable."

"Are you wearing jeans?" Lacey asked from the side of me. I had not even noticed that she was there.

"Yeah. I couldn't find anything else to wear and was rushed out at the last minute. I wonder why."

"I kept asking where you were," Ethan said.

"Don't blame it all on me!" Lacey exclaimed. "You've always got things under control, so I figured this wouldn't be any different. Oh no—"

"Umbitch, twelve o'clock," whispered Ethan. Students milled around her; couples refrained from PDA, students covered stains on wrinkled robes, and prattle halted because it was likely gossip about Umbridge herself. Lacey got into formation in front of me while Ethan walked closely behind. Hyperventilating, we walked past her as her serpentine eyes scanned us like a wand detector. I let out the breath I had no idea I had been holding when we were behind her.

"Greengrass, get back here now."

"Run!" Ethan pushed me forward so that I collided with Lacey. She teetered, trying to keep her balance.

I prepared myself to make the run of my life but then decided to surrender. "You know what? I'm not running. I'm going to face her!"

"Stor, you're crazy!"

Umbridge approached me, her eyes zoning into my skin and pouring into my soul. Lacey and Ethan shrunk behind me. "Why are you wearing jeans, Miss Greengrass?"

"I—I couldn't find my robes this morning."

"And why couldn't you find your robes? You are not poor, I take it? You are a member of the Twenty-Eight, are you not?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of word is that? Children today!"

"I just said yes."

"No, you said 'yeah,' which is, the last time I checked, not a real part of any sort of vocabulary. I think you have been hanging out with Muggleborns too often, Miss Greengrass." I watched her glance behind me, where Ethan must have still been standing. "Now, are you going to go change your pants?"

"No. I have class. I actually have to get going right now or I won't be on time."

"See you," Lacey whispered in my ear, her own cue to leave. There was a scuffling of feet behind me, signaling the departure of my friends. Less students milled the corridor now, as most of them had already arrived at their classes. It was just me and Umbitch now.

"Did you just say 'No' to me?" She was stupefied with her own narcissistic disbelief.

"Yes, I said no," I said and turned around to get to class. But Umbridge grabbed me by the arm, her anchor grip incredibly strong for an old woman. I was incredulous as she dragged me down the hall, despite my physical protests and struggles to get away. Abuse between professors and their most troublesome students was seen often, but not members of the Twenty-Eight. Teachers who were rightful in their discipline of us would not want to risk interference from our influential parents, and teachers who were Purebloods themselves would never think of disrespecting us in such a way. Who did Umbridge think she was?

I found myself inside her office. Hundreds of cats turned their purring heads to stare at me when I was dragged in by their owner. They looked at me with quizzical expressions and I shivered. Umbridge locked her door and went behind her desk.

"I have been watching you for a while, Greengrass, so I think this is the perfect time for the two of us to have a talk."

"Watching me?" I gulped.

"Yes. I have been very concerned about the symptoms you seem to have of rebellious behavior. As you know, I work with your father at the Ministry of Magic, so I promised him that I would keep an eye on you here."

I knew that she worked with my father, but they were never close correspondents. They were merely coworkers; my father abhorred her personality. If she talked to my father, then he would know that I was still friends with Ethan. My breathing quickened and I felt an attack of some sort coming on.

My heart pounded in my chest at her next words. "You have been acting gregarious in the hallways, often talking loudly and making provocative movements while conversing with your friends." So, I liked to have fun? Everyone had seductive gesticulations with their friends—and half the time, they were not a good sort of seductive. "Someone even said that you _copied_ an assignment. Now, I do not always believe other students' words, especially if they are just conversations in passing. But it still raised my eyebrows. I never expected to hear anything but good about you.

"I thought about this for a while because I did not want to take any rash actions. You come from a good family. You were not raised to behave this way and you also belong to the best House in Hogwarts. So, what prompted you to do this?"

"I—"

"I knew that it was not you and cursed myself when I even questioned that it might just be your personality! But then I realized that your sister, Daphne, never behaves like this. I began comparing the two of you and quickly saw that you both surround yourselves with very different people. While Daphne converses with Miss Tracey Davis and Mr. Blaise Zabini, you seem to be quite close with a different sort of crowd."

"I know you're talking about Ethan. He's not a bad person just because he's Muggleborn." How could she be so pretentious and blind? I wanted to take her thin, chapped lips and slam them together before breaking every plate in her office, right before her eyes.

"And this is where he has brainwashed you! Dear, I know that young men often have their charms. Someone handsome like Ethan—well, when there are no other boys you talk to around—you might begin to see something other than what adults like _me_ see. You and that other girl both seem to be quite enamored with him." She took out a pad of paper with kittens on it. "I should make her parents aware of this conniver as well."

"Ethan's _not_ a conniver," I said, clenching my fists. "So you can just stop!"

"Oh dear. This seems to be much worse off than I thought. I believe this might just take some time. I am sure you will thank me after! Ah, children!"

"I'm not a child!" I yelled, feeling quite like a child who had no control.

"I hereby order that you will not see nor talk to Mr. Travers while on school property. You will not dine together, walk to classes together, or sit next to each other in said classes. You will not attend Hogsmeade or school events together. If I see you together, I will issue a detention and notify your parents that you have been talking to a Muggleborn who is not a good influence for you. From there, they would have to discipline you. And I am sure you would not like that?"

"I—I _hate_ you. Dumbledore would never stand for this!"

"You will also not send each other Owls. I will be aware of all the letters that you send and receive. Also, do not think about talking to each other in the common room. I have eyes everywhere!" She giggled.

"You're a witch."

"Now, that's no way to talk to your Headmaster, is it? I would watch your mouth, dear girl. You might be a Pureblood, but I am still going to get a promotion in the Ministry. It would be terrible if you spewed your dirty comments and I was above your father, am I correct?

"Now, I think every girl should have friends. I especially think that every girl should have male friends, because they could turn out to be potential husbands. This is why I have devised that you will spend scheduled time with Niles Handley at Inquisitorial Squad meetings."

"Please, anyone else. He doesn't like me, Professor."

"I am sure he will in good time!"

"What, are you going to bribe him?"

"No, I would never do that! I am simply going to offer him a higher position in the squad and an extra credit assignment for my class. His grade is suffering a bit, if I must admit it."

"Why not Malcolm? Or Malfoy? Or—"

"I believe Handley will do the best job." She put her pen down from taking legal notes. "Now that that is all settled, I believe you have to change something!"

I looked down at my jeans, planning to burn them.

* * *

By that Thursday, the entire class knew what had happened. If anything, it made me more popular because everyone felt the need to approach me to ask what just had happened between myself and Umbridge. As much as I detested Gryffindors, they were the most sympathetic to me and would most often applaud me for what I did. The Slytherins would not inquire to me about it but knew what had happened. They would talk when I walked into the room by glancing at me and then cupping their hands to gossip between themselves. The Ravenclaws were somewhere in between the two; they asked me what had happened but seemed to judge me for the circumstances. It had, after all, been triggered from a pair of jeans.

Ethan was sad and tired, but I could tell through his eyes that he understood. I would tell him inside jokes through Lacey and he would tell me pranks he had played on Handley and his crew in return. He seemed to hate them even more now. But it was not the same, of course. I felt ostracized as Ethan and Lacey widened their circle. It was not that I wanted Lacey to abandon Ethan, but she never divided her time between us. Although I clung to Fay and her friends welcomed me, it was not the same. Ethan and Lacey were in my House so we were not separated. They were also genuine friends and so easy to fall into friendship with—it was effortless.

Thursday came too quickly. I was sitting in DADA, doing my busywork, when a firm hand settled on my desk.

"Excited for tonight?" asked Niles.

"No." I kept writing, trying not to be distracted. I did not want to have homework to finish after my night from hell. Instead, I wanted to curl up in my dormitory and eat leftovers from the Great Hall.

"Look, I know we're on bad terms because of that whole thing with your sister, so I'm sorry."

I stared up at him in surprise. "Who put you up to this?"

"No one. And I'm not doing it for the better position, either. It's just—I realized something once you stopped hanging around Travers. You're smart, a Pureblood, and—"

"I don't want to be your friend, Handley. We might have a lot in common, but we have completely different values." He looked mocked hurt. "But we can be civil." I put out my hand. He hesitated for a moment at my bold movement before giving it a weak shake.

That night, we sat in front of the Room of Requirement, watching as everyone devised ways to get inside. A few students tried some destructive spells but ended up with fringed heads with smoke coming out of their burnt hair. Some tried to get in through by brunt force, but those students were sent to Madame Pomfrey with broken bones and some other minor scrapes. Meanwhile, Umbridge stood in formation, filing her nails.

"How do you think they get in? You're smart."

I looked away. "So are you!"

Niles moved a piece of parchment across the floor towards me. "Are you kidding? Just write something down. I'm sure you'll come up with something."

I picked up the feather pen and stuck it in the inkblot, resting it above the parchment. A bit of ink bled onto the page. Watching everyone struggle over not knowing how to get into the Room of Requirement was like being an accomplice in a crime.

To Umbridge's chagrin at leaving Niles and me alone, Malcolm squatted down beside us. He had broken out into a sweat and had an irritable expression. "You two have it easy, just sitting here. Any ideas?" He wiped his forehead, sending droplets of glistening sweat onto the parchment. He looked from Niles to me, settling on my face. He studied me and I felt forced to speak up.

"Well … maybe—maybe, just because someone can't get inside, doesn't mean it's impossible. Like, everyone else—the people who meet in there—they go inside all the time. What if we just followed them or something?" I hoped that my suggestion would stall them a bit more, instead of giving away all of the information that I knew. It had to be especially useful to know, in case something terrible happened in the future. Ethan, Lacey, and I had never thought about the logistics, but knowing how to get into the Room of Requirement put us into a lot of power. I did not want to think that it might be tyranny because really, the students were breaking Hogwarts rules—not magical laws. If our House knew we were keeping it from them, they might be infuriated, but we were Third Years, so they would have to give us some credit. Even so, I more than anyone had the knowledge of what both sides were up to. Perhaps I could use it to my advantage. If anyone should have power on their hands, it should be me. Although it was dangerous, Merlin knew that it would be useful. If only I could have had the chance to discuss it more with Ethan; surely he would know what for.

"That's bloody brilliant! See, you're smart! Professor Umbitch—bridge, we've got something!"

"You mean _I've_ got something."

Umbridge clacked over to us on her high heels. "Ah, see, I knew this friendship would be useful for more than one reason!"

"Friendship?" Malcolm snorted.

"I do not need your snide remarks. Now, Handley, what have you come up with?"

" _I_ came up with it, Professor," I said angrily.

"Of course," broke in Malcolm.

"Would you both just be quiet?!" she shrieked. Then, in a more tender tone, she said, "Mr. Handley, you explain."

I crossed my arms while Niles informed Professor Umbridge of a way to discover how to get into the Room of Requirement. She loved the idea, immediately crediting him for it. She promised him extra donuts and a promotion "to the level of Mr. Malfoy's." Was this what Ethan was referring to when he described the Muggle term "sexist" so long ago?

"Everyone, listen!" Umbridge hollered. "Stop! Halt your shenanigans!" When the noise had come to an abrupt silence at the sound of her brightened tone, everyone stared at her with widened eyes. Some of the Slytherins who had spent months brownnosing her, were now frustrated at the regime. They had seen her favor Handley, an irrelevant and underworking Third Year whose mother was merely above her in the Ministry. Malfoy eyed her with anger. I remembered his promise to protect my sister's problem with magic. The interim in their friendship was abated after I had given the information about the Room of Requirement to him, so he had kept his promise. Good, was what I had thought when I had seen them conversing together. Even if his motives were unbeknownst to her, their acquaintance would shield any emerging suspicions. Perhaps that group cared about each other after all. Or, more realistically, they knew to keep each other close because of the secrets they each might need hidden.

Umbridge explained to us that at our next meeting, we would follow any members under suspicion to belong to Dumbledore's Army. We would each be assigned one person and we would begin by stalking them at the commencement of next week to get used to their whereabouts. We would be expected to take notes, remain anonymous, and then show them to her at the next meeting. If we were discovered, we would be penalized.

"I'm pretty sure this is a violation of privacy," I muttered to no one. Niles shrugged and Malcolm nodded in agreement, a sly look passing between his eyes.

"Our meeting is now over. You have all done quite enough damage for one night. Line up and I will assign you the person that you will be following. Mr. Handley, don't forget to stop by my room for donuts!" Malfoy looked astounded, probably because he was the one who gave her the rendezvous of where Dumbledore's Army was meeting.

I lined up behind everyone, thoroughly not enjoying this experience. A shiver went down my spine as Malcolm whispered into my ear. "You know something, and I'm going to figure out what it is." I ignored him out of fear, shirking it off like a fly was buzzing near my head.

"Miss Greengrass, you will follow Miss Cho Chang." This would be simple enough. The poor girl was depressed most of the time, sulking around the corridors in a daze. It was too bad I could not have gotten someone more exciting. I would not have wanted to stalk Harry Potter, of course; that was too risky, but Hermione Granger would have been more of a challenge.

I walked past Niles on my way out, shooting him a rude glance. "Geez, Greengrass. I didn't know you cared that much about I.S. that you wanted a promotion."

"I didn't want a promotion. I just wanted a bloody donut!"

* * *

 **A/N:** To say that it's been a while would be an understatement! PLEASEEEE review. I hate to be THAT person, but it'll keep them coming. I'm a very busy person, so having more people pestering me for an update will actually get me to write. :) Hope you're all doing well!


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